Shelter from the Storm
by jelibeanne
Summary: Looking to book passage home from Jamaica, a woman who feels that she has lost everything crosses paths with a man who feels that he has nothing left to lose. NorringtonOC
1. Chapter 1

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

The sun was nearly unbearable as Julia walked along the wharf. Sweat trickled down her back, inching slowly, nearly agonizingly so, between her shoulder blades, then pooling in the hollow of her back, trapped by the waist of her skirt. Pausing to pull a handkerchief from her reticule, she dabbed at her upper lip and silently cursed the Caribbean summer. The infernal heat, combined with the complete lack of familiarity in knowing where she was going, caused Julia to momentarily reconsider her endeavor. But only fleetingly, as she was desperate for passage back home.

Resuming her undertaking, Julia's confident stride belied the bad case of nerves she felt. Feeling small and insignificant as she passed the slew of frigates, schooners and ships, Julia moved as quickly as she could short of breaking into a run. A single woman walking unaccompanied along the waterfront was the cause of many an admiring glance and not so respectful catcall, all of which Julia found out several times over. Feeling her cheeks burning in humiliation as she passed yet another water dog who whistled in her direction, Julia sighed in exasperation and weighed her options as she watched the wooden dock glide past under her feet.

Despite not wanting to talk to anyone she passed for fear that they might manhandle her onto their boat, Julia soon realized that she was in over her head and the only way out of her mess was to stop and ask for help. Which she knew she needed to do all along, but every fiber of her being protested her doing so. Taking several deep breaths in an attempt to settle her stomach, she made eye contact with a young deckhand who gave her a polite nod in return, obviously intrigued by the unescorted young woman, but also respectful. She blinked. Several times. Nothing bad happened. He did not bundle her onboard, forcing her to entertain his crewmen. Rather, he leaned his weight back on his elbows, resting against a pier post, waiting to see what she wanted. _This is not as frightening as you think it is, you twit._

Feeling her confidence returning, Julia cautiously closed the distance between them, then said, "I am trying to book passage to Charles Towne. Are you all going that way or do you know where I might find someone heading in that direction?"

His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. Ah, if only he could finagle her onboard for an hour or two before revealing his ship's actual destination… She looked like she would be a fun one to tumble. But, because of the earnest look on her face, his morals kicked in and after he ran his fingers through the curls of his sun-bleached hair, he pointed towards the end of the pier. "You were headed in the right direction, love, but you need to continue on a bit further. It is the _Amphitrite_ you be seeking. I have heard that they will make for Charles Towne. Ask for a Captain Norrington. Unless I might persuade you to book passage with us… Or maybe a tour of the ship?"

A corner of Julia's mouth quirked up in mild amusement at the wistful tone in his voice. By the looks of him, the young man was barely into his teens. _Young cheeky whelp._ "Captain Norrington, you say? Well, thank you for your time." Julia then reached into her reticule and pulled out a coin, then pressed it into his hand. "For your time," she repeated before walking off.

After several more inquiries, all of them surprisingly uneventful, Julia found herself before the ship that would guide her back to civilization. If one wanted to call life in the Colonies civilized. _But anything was better than living on this Godforsaken spit of sand!_ She did not know how her sister had done it. Taking a moment to collect her wits and gain her bearings, Julia silently observed the choreographed bedlam of the crew as they prepared the ship. It was like watching a ballet; each individual knew exactly where he needed to be in order to work most effectively, but it had to get done in the quickest amount of time possible, so there was an urgency to their actions. If not for the accursed swelter already stealing the air from her lungs, Julia would have found the scene before her almost breathtaking.

Despite using her hand to shield her eyes, a headache was starting to pound behind her eyes from squinting into the sun, so she allowed her gaze to drift from the men on the boat to the imposing figure at the dock's edge.

Watching the crew intently, his arms were crossed over his chest, his legs spread slightly apart, and his stance commanded respect. There was no doubt that he was captain of the vessel, not the way power and authority rolled off his person. Despite the shimmering of images in the blazing heat, his energy was nearly visible and, as hard as she was looking, Julia could swear that his command had a nearly tangible element to it. Solid. Not as all static.

Adjusting her own hat for maximum protection, she was almost amused that he was alone in being bareheaded; those under his command were all wearing some sort of protection from the sun upon their heads. A forearm, the shirtsleeve rolled back to expose heavily furred skin, rose up to block his eyes, becoming a makeshift visor from the blazing sun. The wind had pulled a finger of his dark hair free from his queue, the tendril dancing in the hot wind. Comprised of nearly six and a half feet of lean muscle, he looked quite formidable despite the look of affection he cast upon his vessel.

Berating herself for staring, Julia shook her head to clear her mind and gather her wits. Knowing that she was burning daylight, even though the sun was returning the favor upon her tenfold, Julia crossed the pier and stepped up next to the captain. So caught up in the events before him, he was oblivious to her presence. She had half a mind to draw his cutlass on him to see what his response would be, but, instead, she cleared her throat and asked, "Captain Norrington?"

He turned, peering at the woman before him down the length of his nose. His dark brow furrowed slightly and his green eyes narrowed in a cross between confusion and curiosity. It was very rare to see a woman of such… refinement standing on the wharf, especially so early in the day. Her brown hair, twisted into a complicated configuration known as the latest in style, glinted auburn in the sun and her blue eyes were inquisitive beneath the brim of her hat. But despite her elegance and bearing, there was little doubt of her career. No respectable woman walked alone. With the briefest glimpse of a smile he replied, "May I help you?"

His voice, smooth, deep and silky, glided over her skin like ice on a hot iron. A few days accumulation of beard completed his rough and tumble appearance, but it in no way detracted from his good looks. His regular features were pleasing and virile, if a little thin. If the circumstances had been different, such as meeting him in a drawing room while playing a game of whist, Julia knew it would have been impossible for her not to flirt. However, since she was desperate to get back to Charles Towne, it would do to keep a level head.

But Julia was mildly impressed at his poise, as she was sure few ladies of any breeding walked the docks alone and his restraint spoke volumes about his character. Julia stepped even closer, wanting her words to be shared only with him. "Actually, I was told by others that you were the one to speak with in order to book passage to Charles Towne. I am looking to get back home as soon as possible."

_Others. Of course_. "Is that so?" The condescending tone of his voice was nearly palpable.

Julia smirked, dimpling her left cheek, finding his ostentatious demeanor amusing but then quickly masked her emotions and smoothed her face, refusing to be cowed by the pompous man before her. But she was unable to hold his unwavering gaze and instead looked down at the water, watching the waves lap the wood of the dock, before returning her gaze to his. "It may be difficult to believe that I am not down here for my health or for my pleasure, but please believe me when I say that I am willing to pay whatever price you ask." She held her purse up and shook it slightly, allowing the clinking of coin to reinforce her statement.

James Norrington carefully regarded the woman. While not conventionally beautiful, she was nonetheless very pleasing to the eye. A figure that would turn any sailor's head, she was not fashionably thin but rather looked healthy compared to her female counterparts. Her eyes, fringed by long, thick lashes were large, bright and as blue as the crystalline waters surrounding the island. Those eyes as looked back at him with curiosity and openness. Her lips sat partly opened, waiting for his response.

_Full, soft lips, perfectly made to be ravished_.

The thought shocked him. Resolving to look away, but unable to bring himself to actually do so, Norrington could not help but notice that even in the shade of her hat, he could see the freckles smattered across the bridge of her upturned nose and onto her high cheekbones, making her look younger than her years. _Yes, there is no doubt of her career_.

Finally turning away, he laughed without a trace of humor, shaking his head as if ridding his mind of images best forgotten. Like bloody hell would he allow a woman on his ship! "A very tempting offer, I must say. But, sadly, you were misinformed. I am taking no passengers and I am not going anywhere near Charles Towne. I am sorry you wasted your time. I wish you the best of–."

"Now wait a minute!" Julia hissed, following closely at his heels and grabbing his elbow to keep him from retreating. She hated the desperation in her voice, but Julia had no idea of what else she could do if she was unable to book passage with this ship. "Others told me you were shipping cargo up north! Why would so many say that if it were not true? I am willing to pay a hefty price to book passage. Why are you turning me down? Is it because you think I–?"

Looking down the length of his nose, Norrington effectively silenced her with just a glance and caused her to not only let go of his person, but to take a step backward. "As I said, I am not interested in acquiring any passengers. I ship cargo. Only. Besides, women on ships bring nothing but bad luck," his words were icy along her spine, his tone poisonous. "Good day." Norrington sidestepped around her and started up the gangplank to his vessel; he owed her no other explanation.

But Julia felt otherwise.

Following close to his heels, Julia entreated, "If you will not help me, and that is certainly your choice, will you at least tell me who I might be able to book passage with? I came to this Godforsaken Hell–." She then stopped in her tracks, as if a realization had suddenly dawned on her. Here she was, acting like an uncouth guttersnipe! With a bitter smile, Julia touched the brim on her hat in salute. "You know what? I am pestering. I apologize. Good day to you too." Julia then turned to step off the gangplank to the pier.

Rolling his eyes, and against his better judgment, Norrington sighed, then stopped and grabbed her wrist, despite the impropriety of the intimate contact. The nagging voice in the back of his head was overriding the nagging voice in the front of his head – the extra money would indeed help. Wrenching the reticule from her hand, he opened it and removed several coins before shoving the bag back into her hand, with much of her money still intact.

"I will take you to Charles Towne under one condition."

Julia hardly dared to breath. Her heart beat with the velocity of a hummingbird's wings and felt like it would burst out of her chest any moment and take flight. "Anything," she whispered. At that moment, Julia realized that there was nothing she would do to get home. And instead of being terrified at the idea, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. Having that knowledge gave her a sense of power. Suddenly, her bargaining chips got bigger. _Anything._

The earnest look on her face nearly softened his heart. The emotion put into that single word told him that there was nothing more important to the young woman than getting to Charles Towne – and by any means necessary. Straightening his back in order to strengthen his resolve, Norrington barked, "That at no point in time during the voyage do I, or any of my crew, have to command you to remove yourself from our work. You will have nearly free reign of the ship, but only if you do not interfere with any of my men's activities. And includes me barring you from becoming any part – and I mean any part, despite any coaxing they many attempt – of the men's activities. Is that clear?"

Feeling her cheeks burn in humiliation and anger, Julia bit back her retort and balled her hands into fists, her fingernails cutting half-moons into the flesh of her palms. Instead, she slowly nodded her head in accord. He thought she was a whore! But if he was willing to transport her under that presumption, then Julia was not about to protest, for she knew it would fall on deaf ears. "As a bell. Now, if I may, a question of my own. Just one," Julia clarified when she saw the look of distain cross his features once again. "When do you plan on beginning your voyage?"

He looked at the sun, then the water height against the mooring post. He then settled his gaze on Julia. "In about three hours. When the tide is high, we will set sail. With or without you."


	2. Chapter 2

Julia stood in the doorway of the room she would inhabit for the next week or so. She then looked back over her shoulder at Captain Norrington who casually leaned against the wall, waiting for a response from his passenger. She slowly drew a frustrated breath, careful to appear calm despite her chagrin, filling her lungs with the briny, stagnant air of the ship's hull. In this part of the ship, the sway of the waves was most noticeable and Julia was glad that she was able to quickly gain her sea legs. Since the tide was coming in, she could hear the water slap against the wooden hull, sounding much like an angry fist against a wall, echoing through the small chamber.

The room was hardly bigger than her mother's music box sitting on her vanity back home. A narrow bed, fastened to the floor in some manner, and a chest of drawers, also so fastened, filled the space of the room. In fact, as she gathered her skirts, Julia had to walk sideways between the wall and the bed just to maneuver.

_It reminds me of a coffin. And is about as dark as the inside of one, too, I bet. But, if nothing else, just remember it is but a short period of time to endure in order to get back home_.

Setting her meager belongings down on the bed, Julia soon followed suit and sat on the mattress, testing it for comfort. The sheets were clean, as far as she could tell, and neither the mattress nor the pillow smelled too musty. Shrugging her shoulders in the most unladylike way, Julia smiled wryly, dimpling her left cheek, and said, "Captain, I must say that I am pleasantly surprised. You and your crew should be commended – the room is very clean. I have to admit I have slept in worse." But Julia had to wonder if she was given the smallest cabin possible in retribution for her earlier insolence.

_I bet you have_. Norrington resisted the urge to snort and instead nodded his head, as if in silent agreement. The truth of it was, having a woman on the ship made the men work even harder, if only to best each other in trying to impress the fairer sex. Although that was also a double-edged sword, as men sometimes became careless in their one-up-manship. It was always best to transport goods, rather than persons. But when presented with two evils, best to take the lesser. _I just hope I chose wisely._ Crossing his arms across his chest, he gestured at her bags with his chin. "Are those all your belongings or are more to be expected?"

Julia eyed her valise and satchel with much bemusement. His question rang in her head for several moments as she tried to formulate an appropriate answer. Did she explain that she had long since already paid for a trip back to America, but found herself in circumstances that pushed her departure date up by more than a month? Or was it best that he know as little about her as possible? Shrugging her shoulders again, Julia smiled. "You told me that you were to set sail with or without me, once you had my money firmly in hand I might add, so what you see here is all that I shall transport. My visit became more abbreviated than I anticipated, so I had to sell some of my personal belongings in order to afford to pay for the trip back to Charles Town."

An arched eyebrow was the only visible sign of intrigue. Before him sat a very curious woman, indeed. But rather than continue to interrogate his passenger, Norrington thought it best to change the subject entirely. Discussing the ownership, or lack thereof, of a woman's articles of clothing seemed highly inappropriate, even under the consideration of his newest guest's career. Instead, he unfolded his arms and stretched them above his head, bracing his hands against the top of the threshold.

Julia waited for some sort of comment, but was surprised when he said, "Dinner will be at 7 o'clock. Would you like to eat with the crew or in your quarters?" 

Wrinkling her brow in mild annoyance at the turn in the conversation, Julia bit her tongue to hold back a saucy retort. Why was it that he was still lingering when there were plenty of pressing matters that he could attend to? Not that she really wanted him to leave because, in some small way she could barely acknowledge, Julia almost found him agreeable to be around. Almost. Never mind the fact that the room was dark and damp, and the gravity of the situation was crashing down upon her. Being alone with her thoughts was the last things Julia wanted at the moment.

But the captain's words from the dock came flooding back. And left a sour taste in her mouth. "If it pleases you, I think that I shall take all of my meals in here. I would loathe being in anyone's way."

Shoving himself off the doorframe, Norrington entered the room and maneuvered his bulk past Julia's skirts, to open the shutter covering the window and allow light to fill the chamber. He planted his hands on both sides of the window frame, his forehead resting against the glass, not entirely sure as to his reasons for entering the room. Norrington had business to attend to, items requiring his near immediate attention. And it was not as if he actually enjoyed her company. She was just a means to an end. Or so he kept reminding himself. At a loss for words, he busied himself with opening the latch on the window to allow for fresh air to enter the cabin.

Julia's gaze followed the captain's entry into her room and settled on the broad expanse of his back, where his shoulder muscles twisted and turned beneath the fabric. A breeze caught at the shirt, blousing the shirt open, filling the material like a ship's sail, which only emphasized the narrowness of the captain's hips. From where she sat, Julia could only see a hint of the burnished skin of his chest, but it was enough for her to avert her eyes.

_A lady should not notice such things_. Ashamed of having such low thoughts, her cheeks burned scarlet at the realization, a reaction she hoped would go unnoticed by Captain Norrington. It then dawned on Julia that she was sitting on a bed with a man in the same room. She immediately stood, not at all sure of the protocol in such a situation.

Her sudden movement startled him and he swung around, taking a step forward and landing his body a scant inches from hers. And brought him in direct line of sight with the neckline of her dress. A very flattering neckline. _Bloody Hell_, he thought.

"The passenger rooms were not built for ladies in mind, I suppose," he said, suddenly unable to continue looking upon her. He caught his reflection in the tarnished looking glass above the foot of the bed and noted his disheveled appearance. Despite the heat of the day, she still looked cool and composed while he looked… _Like the sea dog you have become_. The room suddenly became unbearably small but the only way out was currently blocked by…

Actually, he had no idea as to her name and the fact startled him. With a sheepish grin that Julia found quite charming, he ran a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to tame his locks and said, "Not that it makes much difference to me, but I suppose that the crew might, eventually, want to know. So, since you will be sailing with us for a while, may I inquire as to your name?"

Julia ducked her head, trying to hide the color in her cheeks. Of course! How thickheaded of her not to announce her name when she booked passage. The time she spent on the island must have baked all the sense out of her brain. "You may." _Despite the fact that you practically said that you, yourself, could give a rat's arse as to whom I am_. "And I apologize for not properly introducing myself earlier. My name is Julia. Julia Ramage. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

She gave no indication of her title, an omission that was not lost on Norrington. And her casual introduction was indicative of rearing that was less than… proper. He took her smooth hand in his own rough one and made to kiss it, but irritation suddenly swelled within him. Trying to pass as someone more decent than she actually was! So, at the last moment, Norrington just bowed in acknowledgement. Looking up into her eyes from above the smooth plane of the back of her hand, he said, "Captain James Norrington. Tomorrow I will introduce you to the rest of the crew. In the meantime, I shall let you rest. A tray of food will be brought to your room in a short while. Until the morrow, Miss Ramage, I bid you a good night."


	3. Chapter 3

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

Julia awoke the next morning in a panic. A sudden lurch pitched the room and pulled her from her dreams. Looking around wildly, it took Julia a moment to realize that the ship must have reacted to a large wave, but was back on course. The bed upon which she slept seemed to shrink through the night until it was no wider than a plank of wood. _And as soft as one also_. Pushing herself upright, Julia caught her reflection in the looking glass. Despite having just woke up, or maybe because of it, dark circles marred the skin just below her eyes and her pallor had a decidedly sallow cast, despite the days she spent hiding from the Caribbean sun – and freckling up nonetheless.

_I just need to get home. No doubt about it. A few days, maybe a week, and then I can get back to my life. Just get up, get dressed, and stay out of the captain's way. Who cares what you look like? There is no one on this ship that you need to impress. So just do what you have to do and–_.

A knock on the door startled Julia, nearly causing her to fall from her bed. She squinted into the darkness, trying to gain her bearings. _What time is it?_

"Breakfast, Miss Ramage!" The distinctive voice of Captain Norrington carried through the door. The annoyance reverberating in his tone brought to mind eyes rolling in their sockets and toe tapping in a staccato rhythm against the wooden floor, although Julia knew the captain was too much of a gentleman to let his irritation become a physical reaction.

Julia was also very surprised that it was the captain who presented her with her breakfast. Her dinner the evening before had also been brought to her quarters by none other than Captain Norrington, rather than being delegated to a lesser member of the crew. _Why take on an extra task?_

Pulling her thoughts back to the situation at hand, Julia realized that she was in no condition to receive any visitors, let alone male guests. Quickly jumping out of bed, Julia grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and hastily donned the wrapper. Tying it closed around her waist, she crept up behind the door, just in case it flew open and someone entered. Julia checked the time on the pendent around her neck. _Five thirty._

Placing her hand against the door, she trailed her fingers along the grain and collected her thoughts. "Thank you." Her voice wavered slightly so she wet her lips and tried again. "Please, just leave it outside the door. On the floor. I will… I will retrieve it in just a moment. Just, please, let me know where I should bring the trays when I am finished."

Julia heard the clinking of utensils and a muffled thud as the tray was set down, followed by a sigh of aggravation. His voice cut through the heavy door. "I shall return in one half hour and will show you myself. Afterwards, I can give you a tour of the ship."

Julia spun around, her back against the door, and tilted her head back in frustration. She let out a sigh and resisted the temptation to beat her head against the wood, but did allow a hand to arc upwards and pinch the bridge of her nose. It seemed that she could vex Captain Norrington, no matter the circumstances. "Thank you," she said quietly, not at all sure if her voice would carry through the door.

There was a pause, which made Julia consider that Norrington had not heard her, before he answered, "You are most welcome, Miss Ramage. Thirty minutes." Footsteps then echoed faintly as he walked away from her cabin.

Knowing that Captain Norrington would indeed arrive in precisely thirty minutes hence, and that she had eaten up several of those minutes already, Julia quickly opened the door and looked both ways before grabbing the tray. She then set it on her bed and began to make quick work of getting dressed. Food would have to wait until she was presentable. Besides, it was too early to be hungry and the food looked none too appetizing.

True to his word, Captain Norrington returned to her cabin just as Julia had finished pinning her hair up into a simple twist. A short rap on the door brought a wry smile to her lips. Relief coursed through her veins that she looked completely presentable. "Come in," she called softly, turning away from the mirror to face the door as it opened.

The doorknob twisted slowly, then the door swung into the room. The smile faded from Julia's lips when she saw the scowl on Norrington's face. Looking about as happy as a cat getting dunked in a bath, he leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. Norrington said nothing and the silence nearly became tangible as anger radiated off his person.

Not sure if she was the cause of his wrath or if she was just lucky enough to bear the brunt of it, Julia thought it best to act as if all was well. Dropping into a quick curtsey, she kept her gaze low and spoke as cheerfully as possible. "Good morning, Captain. I certainly appreciate the time you taking to give me a quick tour of the ship. I also hope that in doing so, I have not hindered your schedule for the day. The events of yesterday transpired rather quickly, so I am not sure if I properly conveyed my gratitude for all that you have done. But I am ready whenever you are – I certainly do not wish to take any more time than necessary."

Her words came out in a rush and Norrington knew that they were her attempt to smooth things over. And while they were not the most heartfelt words he had ever heard, the sentiment was sincere. Besides, having a woman on the boat was causing Norrington's men to be merry – a little too merry. All were eager to meet Miss Ramage and that worried the captain. But, as it was, having someone on board made the voyage seem a little less monotonous. All the tasks were the same, but the environment generally crackled with a bit of excitement. Especially if the person was of the female persuasion. And alone. _And looked like Miss Ramage_.

He really could not blame poor Miss Ramage; she did nothing that other persons had not done many times before – procured passage back home. That was one of the many services his ship offered. Miss Ramage just had the misfortune to come after a huge cargo deal fell through. Although, if the ship were hauling the cargo, Norrington doubted there would have been room for Miss Ramage to sleep, as all available space would have been occupied.

_No use crying over spilt milk_.

"Miss Ramage, no trouble at all. But, it looks like you have not eaten any of your breakfast. Is the food unsatisfactory to you?" Norrington's brow furrowed at the tray of food still sitting on the bed, sitting on top of the sheets and coverlet freshly smoothed into place. It was obvious that Julia had quickly repaired her person and put her cabin in order, so, he supposed, there really was no time to for her to eat. But he wanted to make sure that his passenger was not putting on airs.

Her eyes went wide as Julia noticed the plate on the tray was still full of hard bread, salt pork and cheeses. _Bloody Hell!_ After all the time she spent getting herself ready, Julia lost track of eating breakfast. Not wanting to lose her food to the scrap pile or irritate the captain, she thought quickly.

"My constitution was a bit… compromised this morning. I was going to ask if you had any suggestions, other than fresh air, that might… soothe me?" She quickly stooped and pulled the tray from the night before out from under her bed. The plate was empty, save for a few crumbs, and the mug of grog was nearly empty. Julia wanted to prove that she was not trying to be a dainty flower, for she knew Captain Norrington's opinion was quickly solidifying that she was uppity. _An uppity whore._

Norrington nearly smiled. Women never spoke of such troubles so he knew it was nearly painful for Julia to admit as much as she had. Nodding his head, he gestured for her to exit the cabin. As she balanced the empty tray against her hip, she reached for the still full tray with her empty hand. Grabbing the empty tray from her, Captain Norrington made shooing gestures and said, "Leave it. I doubt it will get any more stale, so it might actually get a might bit more fresh if you give it more time to… build a bouquet." With that, he draped the napkin across the food to keep flies from congregating, then followed his passenger into the dimly lit hallway.

Standing next to her, Norrington was rather surprised at her sang-froid. For someone who made their living lying on her back, Miss Ramage certainly had a decorum about her that was more in place in the drawing rooms of London than on a cargo ship heading out of the Caribbean. Her carriage was regal, her clothing – simple, yet completely au courant – hugged her figure in a way that was all the rage… and brought scandalous thoughts into his head. Her hair, despite looking tidy and utilitarian, looked like it was not used to being put up by its mistresses fingers – rather, by someone else's help. Nevertheless, a woman traveling alone only meant one thing. Lax virtue.

_And 'tis a pity, as she is a lovely creature. Maybe if circumstances had been different.._.

Shaking his head vigorously, as if to clear it of unwanted images, Captain Norrington spoke in a clipped tone. "Come, Miss Ramage, let us begin your tour. First, I shall show you the galley. Then, you shall meet the crew."


	4. Chapter 4

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

Norrington made a point of avoiding Miss Ramage the rest of the day and only saw her once in passing that evening, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Julia. After giving her a full access tour of the ship, where Julia was shown more of the ship than she could ever imagine, Captain Norrington disappeared into his cabin and did not emerge until many hours later, the dismissal of his passenger rather abrupt.

Left to her own devices, Julia opted to roam the passageways below deck for a bit of time, finding a bevy of animals eager for attention. Knowing the chickens were for later meals as well as a source of eggs, Julia found the goats on board a strange anomaly. _If I ask, I know I will get an answer I do not want to hear, so do not get too attached to them, Julia._ Sighing, she scratched a goat between the ears before continuing her exploration of the hallways. Outside her room, she ended up making friends if the feline persuasion when a cat flopped down at her feet, demanding attention. A smile curved Julia's lips as she realized that she had just met the only friend she had to her name.

Scooping the cat up in her arms, who chirped in agreement, Julia retired to her cabin also as the crew, especially First Mate Thaddeus Cobb, were a little too attentive for her comfort. After her full access tour, Captain Norrington had the men line up on deck so he could formally introduce his passenger to his men. The introduction was overwhelming, as there were so many whose names Julia struggled to recall and their enthusiasm was a wall of energy pressing against Julia. Granted, some met her with open hostility, but, overall, she felt like a prize mare being paraded before a herd of stallions. Banishing herself to the small room, despite feeling the toss of the waves more violently, was preferable to the company of the crew of the _Amphitrite._ At least, for the time being. After all, she now had a cat for companionship, for he now followed Julia everywhere, like a little puppy.

The next morning, after a visit to his crew's quarters, Captain Norrington came above deck and was surprised to spot Miss Ramage at the bow of the ship. Gone was his decision to watch the sun rise, for his passenger was leaning far over the rail. Although it did not appear as if she were ill. But, he surmised, she could be looking to jump ship. _I could not be that lucky_. Intrigued, he closed the gap between them with a purposeful stride.

Careful that his words did not startle her to badly that she did indeed topple overboard, Norrington quietly asked, "So what has caught your attention this morning?"

Julia looked back over her shoulder, strangely disappointed to find company, but once she saw it was the captain, she instinctively smiled a greeting. He stood a few paces to her left, his hands clasped behind his back. She was in such a jolly mood that she wanted to laugh with joy; the wind rushing over her as the ship sped through the waters was more invigorating than she could ever recall. But seeing his brow arched in puzzlement was more than she could bear – a peal of laughter rang from her throat in the early morning air. Julia was beyond thrilled to see the captain smile in return; it seemed that, at the moment, he was not irritated with her.

_Why, when he looks happy, he is almost devilishly handsome_.

Indeed, the captain was sporting a clean-shaven jaw and the clothing he had worn for the past two days, if not longer, had been replaced with a fresh ensemble. His shirt was of the latest style with wide cuffs turned back, decorated with braid and ornate buttons. A cravat, the newest rage, was tied jauntily at his throat. Plain breeches flowed into the tops of boots at the knees. The only pieces missing from his ensemble was a waistcoat and hat. His dark hair was freshly washed and tied back with a black silk ribbon. If she was not feeling so exhilarated, Julia might have been curious as to what precipitated his new found cleanliness.

Instead, Julia bobbed her chin in acknowledgement, her smile slipping into smirk, and turned her attention back to the water. She would be damned if she would give him cause to mock her, so Julia decided to be evasive. If Captain Norrington wanted to see what was of interest, he could step up and find out. Until then, Julia decided that since he had ignored her yesterday, she was going to show him that turn about was fair play.

A grin nearly threatened to split her face in two as Julia leaned so far over the railing, the captain worried she would soon swing a leg over. Julia was standing on the very tips of her toes, causing Norrington to become very apprehensive over the precarious position his passenger was putting herself into. He quickly closed the distance between them, in case she got any wild ideas and he had to stop her. Standing close enough to her to smell the lavender oil she dabbed in her hair, the captain closed his eyes for a moment, remembering standing so close to another woman, mumbling a proposal, and how she smelled like a field of lavender dancing in the wind.

Opening his eyes, Norrington found himself still on the main deck of his ship, the memory he recalled fading into the past. Before him was his passenger, leaning over the railing, her lips parted in near rapture. His curiosity piqued, he looked to see what kept her attention rapt.

Dolphins.

_Of course_.

Bracing herself against the railing, Julia spread her arms wide in glee, as if embracing the world around her. Norrington had a passing thought that she looked similar to the figurehead on the front of the ship. _A goddess rising from the sea? Surely not. More like nightmare rising from Hell. However, when was the last time the ocean caused you such rapture? Is that not why you took to the waters in the first place?_ He had met many people in his life – had transported many passengers in his day – but none had the guilelessness as Miss Ramage. In others, Norrington knew he would find such enthusiasm irritating, but, for the moment, he found Julia quite refreshing. The last several years had caused him to age beyond his years, but at that moment, Norrington reveled in his passenger's enthusiasm.

"Have you ever seen a sight so grand? Looking at them – the smiles on their faces – they are almost… human!" Her face practically radiated with a fervent glow and a pointed finger punctuated her passionate answer to his question.

Norrington was barely able to resist the urge to laugh, but found holding back a grin an impossible feat. It had been a long time since he had seen anyone show such uncontained, unabashed excitement. And reflecting on that, Norrington mused that it probably had been even longer since he, himself, had felt any sense of giddiness.

_Actually, the last time you felt any sense of joy, you fool, was the day you proposed to Elizabeth Swann. Nothing has made you as happy, or as sad, since._

Out of the corner of her eye, pulling her attention from the dolphins, Julia saw the flash of his teeth in the sun. As she turned, Julia noticed the smile ebb from his lips and in its stead, a firm line of anger settled in the smile's place. Biting her lip, she turned back to the pod of dolphins, trying to rekindle the small moment they had just shared.

Sighing, she propped her elbows on the railing and placed her index finger against her jaw, tapping gently, as if trying to remember something from the deep recesses of her mind. "'Once I sat…'" she began to quote. "Oh dear, now how does it go?"

"Pardon?" Norrington drew his brows together in confusion and cocked his head, as if he his hearing was poorly. What was this confounded woman talking about?

She shook her head in exasperation. Men were so frustrating, always rushing to push their ideas, their values, their judgments on women. "Hush now. I am trying to remember my Shakespeare. I think from his _Midsummer Night's Dream_. What is it that Oberon says? Oh yes…

'Thou rememberest  
Since once I sat upon a promontory,  
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back  
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,  
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,  
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres  
To hear the sea-maid's music.'"

Although Norrington hated to admit it, Miss Ramage surprised him – a feat few people were able to do. Norrington took pride in always being a few steps ahead of everyone else so that no one was able to blindside him in any way possible. _Especially since Elizabeth Swann was able to do so quite nicely_. But quoting Shakespeare was the last thing he would have ever expected out of his passenger. He would have to be more perceptive.

But Norrington felt an obligation to respond to her soliloquy. "Out of all the plays and poems, I do not recall that particular… monologue."

Julia curved her lips into a rueful smile, her blue eyes darkening as distant memories were relived. "When I was twelve, my tutor made me pick a passage from _Midsummer_ to recite. I chose that particular portion because, at twelve, I loved the image of riding on the back of a dolphin, skimming the tops of frothy waves together. I spent days rehearsing that section over and over until I thought my parents would strangle my tutor. However, once you learn something like that, it will never leave the recesses of your mind. But I must confess, I had not even thought of that passage in years. It is odd what the mind chooses to remember when sparked by different situations."

Norrington had to admit that the woman before him was rather charming, although doing so publicly nigh on would have killed him. She looked so proud of herself as she tossed him a look over her shoulder, her chin nearly touching the fabric of her dress, a dimple kissing her cheek. Hating himself for taking up residence against the railing, Norrington found himself scant inches from Miss Ramage. So close that he could see her pulse beat on the inside of her wrist. If anyone found him in such close proximity to Miss Ramage and questioned his motives, Norrington would swear that she put a hex on him. As it was, spending time with his animated passenger was actually more rewarding than he was willing to admit. Even to himself.

Noticing how close Captain Norrington was to her and yet silent, Julia tried another tactic to draw him out of his self-imposed shell. Dipping her head demurely, she asked, "Captain, if I may, do you know why is it the dolphins are following the ship?"

His forearms resting on the rail, hands resting on top of the other, Norrington eyed the aquatic creatures frolicking with his ship, then Miss Ramage. A corner of his mouth quirked up in an attempt at a smile, but it came out more like a grimace. The idea of joy or happiness seemed more like a concept that Norrington had read about in books, but never actually experienced for himself, for it was so long ago that he last felt such an emotion. Yet being next to someone who wore their emotions so openly was almost intoxicating. Plus, she smelled like lavender.

_Focus. On. The. Damn. Dolphins. You. Dolt._

Sleek and gray, there were about twelve of the animals swimming amongst the waves kicked up by the ship. Their chatter carried over the roar of the surf as the ship plowed through the water. Miss Ramage was right, the animals looked as if they were smiling, as if sharing some sort of secret amongst themselves. Captain Norrington was not at all sure of which was more entertaining – the dolphins surfing or Miss Ramage and her excitement.

Lacing his fingers together, clasping his hands, Norrington shrugged nonchalantly. "I must admit, I wondered for quite some time myself. At first, I used to think it was curiosity on their part. I had heard that dolphins have extraordinary sight and I always thought that they were being inquisitive about us on board. After all, we look nothing at all like other creatures in their sea. But I have since altered my theory and think that they are just playing in the waves. After all, look at how much fun they are having. But, regardless, their presence is viewed as a sign of good luck." _Maybe their appearance will counter the bad luck of having a woman on board._ Norrington shrugged his shoulders again and pivoted so that his back was to the rail and he was resting his weight on his elbows behind him. The sun was starting to slip away from kissing the horizon, a sign that he needed to get started with his duties. But, for some reason, he found himself wanting to loiter in Miss Ramage's presence.

But Norrington could linger no longer. Much work was to be done that morning, as the afternoon promised to be quite eventful. It was best to tackle to the tasks that awaited him. And the next one on his list was to clue his passenger into the upcoming events that were about to transpire.

Stepping away from the railing, his hands clasped behind his back once again, Norrington began to slowly pace as he began to formulate his train of thought. Knowing that she would be less than happy with the information he was about to divulge, Norrington figured that it was best to spit it out and retreat before Miss Ramage could protest. After all, there was little she could do about the situation.

Unable to look at her, lest he lose his nerve or bravado, Norrington looked past Julia to the horizon as he conveyed his plans. "By the way, I thought you should know that we will be docking in Nassau sometime this afternoon to pick up a sugar cane shipment bound for Charles Towne. The men will no doubt want to spend the evening on shore, entertaining and being entertained if you will, so once we dock I will help you find accommodations for the night. Your room will be covered by the cost of your fare, so please, do not worry about that. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it cannot be helped. Now, I must get going. Either I or one of the crew will let you know sometime this afternoon when we will be approaching port. Until then, good day."

A sputter of protest died on her lips when she realized that it would fall on deaf ears, as Captain Norrington beat a hasty retreat to the far side of the deck. Realizing it would be pointless to follow, Julia stood in frozen outrage as she watched Captain Norrington slip from sight. She was not as upset about the delay as she was the manner it which it was conveyed. What had happened to the moment of camaraderie that they had just been sharing? What did she do that caused him regress back to his aloof self? Frustrated that he denied her the ability to ask any questions, as well as his manner of conveying the information, Julia glared as loudly as she could in his general direction before stomping off in a huff and disappearing below deck.


	5. Chapter 5

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

Julia sighed in frustration and, after a moment, sat up in bed. The inn where the crew had booked rooms was pleasant enough and well furnished, but the walls were terribly thin. For the past several hours Julia had heard nothing but the sounds of people coupling in the room next to hers, as well as the bed banging against the wall adjoining her own… in a continuous, on-going rhythm. _Why have they not spent themselves yet?_ For hours, she had tried to block out the noise, but the pillow and multiple layers of bedding over her ears failed to deaden the sound. Every time she thought that they were finished, the bed would resume it's banging against the adjoining wall.

Pitching her pillow across the room in irritation, Julia watched it hit the wall and gently bounce to the floor. She tried to imagine that it had hit the head of one James Norrington, but her lack of sleep made the effort too great for her to conjure. If only Captain Norrington would take a five-minute rest and allow her the ability to slip off into sleep without the infernal racket he was causing! For as stuffy as he appeared, Julia was more than a little surprised that it was Captain Norrington who most acted like an animal amongst the crew.

_A far cry from this afternoon, that is for certain_.

The afternoon began as the most undoubtedly tiresome Julia had ever spent in her twenty-nine years. After docking in Nassau around two o'clock, Julia found herself sitting on a mooring post, patiently waiting for Captain Norrington to fulfill his promise of taking her to the inn so that she could retire until dinner. Trying her best to be accommodating, Julia kept rereading the same passage from her novel, as the type just swam before her eyes in the infernal Caribbean heat. Feeling like she was roasting, Julia kept readjusting the brim of her hat to protect her skin from the ever-present sun. And to use as a makeshift barrier to block the lovesick expression of the ever-present Mister Cobb.

After waiting for several hours, Julia found herself escorted from the dock by none other than the illustrious Mister Cobb who enthusiastically ushered her through the streets of town as if she were a prize mare and then deposited her in a room at a modest inn. The whole stroll down the narrow streets, Mister Cobb had a vise-like grip on her elbow.

"For your protection," he explained.

It was all Julia could to keep from guffawing. _More like any excuse to have your hands on me_.

Instead, Julia smiled sweetly and allowed herself to be led to the inn. But just as long as it stopped there and did not continue past the door of her rented room. Julia was not looking forward to having to decline any advances, if it came down to that. Once checked in, she politely demurred his overzealous offer to make sure she was properly settled into her new quarters. Instead, Julia sent a dejected Mister Cobb back to the ship with the request that she not be disturbed for a few hours. Given the opportunity to sleep in a real bed that was wider than a yardstick, Julia wished to take full advantage of the situation.

Her lodgings were cavernous compared to where she had slept on board the ship, with a goose down mattress on the bed and a rag-braid rug encompassing most of the floor. For a moment, Mister Cobb lingered in the doorway and even looked as if he was going to enter the room, but after a few minutes of awkward silence he just nodded curtly and left abruptly.

But then Julia found herself alone, as her belongings were to be brought to her later. Captain Norrington had apologized for the inconvenience he had caused her, but had promised it would be made up to her later via dinner at the best restaurant in town. But without her trunk, she had no clothes to change into for dinner. With a roll of her eyes, Julia removed her dress and allowed it to air out while she curled up with a luxuriously soft pillow.

At precisely ten of seven, there was a rap on her door. "Miss Ramage! Are you ready for dinner?"

Startled out of her sleep, Julia sat up bolt upright. _Bloody Hell!_ How long had she been out? "One moment!" she called while springing out of bed and quickly tightening her stays. She then donned her dress, her fingers scrambling to fasten the buttons properly. With one last look in the mirror to make sure that her buttons were properly aligned, Julia opened the door with a smile.

Captain Norrington was standing a few feet from the doorway, his attention focused on the detail work of the cabinet at the end of the hallway. Dressed in more formal eveningwear then the clothing he conducted business in that afternoon, Julia knew that the barmaids would be swarming around the captain. After watching him inspect the wooden cupboard for several long seconds, his ramrod straight back to her, Julia broke the silence by softly asking, "Captain?"

Slightly perturbed at being kept waiting, a reprimand sat on the tip of his tongue and arrogance colored his features when he turned to address Julia. But when Norrington's gaze settled on his passenger, she watched his features transform from near haughtiness to awe. She felt her cheeks pink in discomfort under his disconcerting stare.

Very rarely did James Norrington find himself at a loss for words, but once he saw Julia, with her hair cascading down her back in amber waves, all cognizant thought exited his mind. There was a sleepy look in her eyes that made him think of lazy Sunday afternoons and picnics at sunset. And of more sinful diversions.

Quickly regaining his composure, he looked very pleased and proud of himself. "Good evening, Miss Ramage. I hope that you have a fine appetite, as the men and I are in the mood to celebrate. We had splendidly good luck in our negotiations this afternoon, so a long evening of celebrations is about to commence. And since I promised you dinner at the best restaurant in town, shall we proceed?" Offering his elbow, Captain Norrington suddenly looked impatient.

Pressing her lips together until a white line formed, she looked down, her lashes brushing her cheekbones. "I will need to change. As you can see, I am not properly dressed for dinner. If I may have access to my satchel, I shall hurry as fast as I can…"

A look flashed in the captain's eyes – a reaction Julia could not read. The captain swallowed hard; Julia watched the muscles of his throat contract and relax. With a roll of his shoulders, he pronounced. "There is no time. 'Tis my fault, but the men are waiting. And they are ravenous. Besides, I promised you the best restaurant, not the most expensive. You look perfectly acceptable for where we shall dine. Now please, I mean not to rush, but we must not tarry."

Julia was quiet, completely still except for her breathing, then nodded her head. Not in agreement, but for lack of a better action. "Then just let me put my hair up. It shall take just but a moment."

As Julia turned to retreat back into her room, Captain Norrington reached out and touched Julia's elbow. "No." Looking back at him over her shoulder, confusion furrowed her brow as she waited for an explanation. "No. Wear it down this evening." When Julia just blinked in confusion, he pressed. "Please." Norrington hated the pleading tone in his voice, but he was helpless to his reaction as Julia's hair fell in loose waves around her cheeks and past her shoulders; she looked like an angel.

Julia hesitated, contemplating; then nodded her agreement. Her blue eyes locked into his green, and for several moments each considered the other. Then, with a little shake of her head as if coming out of a fog – or dream – Julia broke from his gaze, retreating into the room to grab her reticule. Exiting, she accepted the captain's arm as she closed the door gently behind her.

From what Julia could gather, it seemed that the negotiations to transport the sugar cane resulted in a watershed payment to the crew of the _Amphitrite._ The men were joyous – but respectful – to Julia. A large group of men, with loose purses, made them all the more attractive to serving wenches, bar maids, and the like. And like parched sponges, the men fed on the feminine attention in addition to freshly cooked victuals. So, although Julia was unaware at the time she settled in at the dining table, a long evening of eating and drinking to celebrate was about to commence.

And what an evening it was.

After consuming large quantities of food, the festivities continued well into the night. When music began to play, the men insisted that Julia take a turn and dance with each. But as the men got more and more rowdy, save the captain, Julia decided to retreat to the inn. Claiming an uncomfortably full belly from the rich food and wine, Julia begged off the rest of the evening and pleaded to retire back to her room – to the drunken dismay of the crew. With much grumbling and fanfare from the crew, Captain Norrington walked Julia through the streets of Nassau to her room with the promise that after a couple of hands of cards downstairs in the great room of the inn, he would retire to the room next to hers – in case she was in need of his service. Julia had to stifle a scoff at the comment. But the evening had been filled with such goodwill that she was sure that the words were spoken in innocence.

Captain Norrington brought her bags to her room and lingered in the doorway for several long moments, much like Mister Cobb had several hours prior. He shook his head in the negative when Julia offered him several coin to cover the costs of her food. As he loitered, Julia felt a nearly palpable tension between the two of them and was certain that Captain Norrington was just waiting for an invitation into the room. But to do so would only confirm her status in his eyes. As if he needed any more fodder for his low opinion of Julia…

_I see he found someone else who was in need of his service_.

Checking the pendant hanging around her neck to see what time it was, Julia sighed again when she read that it was nearing four in the morning. Knowing any attempt to go back to sleep would be pointless, she threw back the quilt and swung her feet off the bed so they touched the floor, deciding to get dressed. Maybe she could find comfort in a chair in the common area until sunrise, her novel for company. By then, maybe someone on the crew would wake and make their way downstairs. Julia knew that while normally the men would be rising soon or already awake, it looked to be a late morning for most of them. So it would be a long wait in the interim. Surely there was a coffeepot somewhere on the premises being kept warm.

The entire time Julia dressed, the bed in the other room continued to bang a near constant rhythm against the wall. Rolling her eyes in a cross between frustration and amusement, she pulled her brush through her hair then pulled it back in a simple braid. It made her look much younger than her years and was a style Julia had not worn out in public since she was in short skirts, but there would be time later to attend to it properly. Pausing a moment, she considered the captain's appreciation of her hair worn loose and the feeling warmed her insides, but then the table next to her bed rattled from a particularly vigorous jolt and Julia gave a soft cry of aggravation.

Julia quickly exited her room and crept down the hallway before descending the staircase to the common area. It was still quite dark, with only a few lanterns lit low, so she maneuvered slowly, trying to get her bearings. Stopping mid stride, Julia noticed a fellow traveler dozing in one of the chairs. From the angle at which she stood it was difficult to discern if he was a member of the crew or just a stranger, as his head had dropped forward in sleep. But from her vantage point, Julia could have sworn it was Captain Norrington. She very nearly rubbed her eyes in hopes that it would help her see more clearly.

_My eyes must be playing tricks on me. The dear captain is upstairs showing his enthusiasm towards his new friend. But I should probably retreat before whoever that is awakens and mistakes me for someone who is paid to take a tumble._

Deciding that she was not seeking company, Julia spun on her heel to make as graceful an exit as possible – and ran right into a side table. The sound of the impact echoed in the large chamber, much to Julia's chagrin. Muttering the most unladylike oath, Julia folded into a nearby chair to massage her battered foot. Mentally willing the gentlemen in the chair to remain asleep and oblivious, she cringed when she heard the words right out, "Ho there! Are you all right?"

Closing her eyes in embarrassment, she nodded her head in the affirmative, then realized he might not see her agreement in the darkness. "Yes, sir. Thank you. I… I am so sorry I woke you. I saw you in the chair and I–." Turning her head to address him directly, Julia stopped mid-sentence when she discovered it Captain Norrington standing near her, concern washing over his features. "Captain!"

Equally surprised, Norrington took a step backwards. Questions flooded his mind. What time was it and why was Miss Ramage even awake? Whose room was she leaving and where was she off to next? His brow furrowed. "Miss Ramage. I must admit that you startled me, although you also look like you may have seen a ghost. I… Are your accommodations somehow lacking? I would have figured that a room that large would be a nice change of pace."

He watched her blood pound as Julia's hand went to her chest in an attempt to slow her racing heart, her splayed fingers perfectly framing the base of her throat. But her brow arched in bemusement and a smiled threatened to appear at the corner of her lips. "Captain Norrington! You, of all people, are actually the last person I expected to see down here! I thought…" Julia narrowed her eyes in confusion. "I apologize. I spoke before I thought. I just was under the presumption that you were in the room next to mine." What the bloody Hell was going on?

Norrington's mirth knew no bounds. He laughed, a rippling, melodic sound. It reminded Julia of bells pealing out in jubilee, low and rumbling. "No! No… I have been down here all night. Mister Cobb managed to win my room key off me during a game of cards. Seeing that there is little fun in bunking with the ship's captain, as Cobb was to bunk with the Quartermaster, I excused myself and downed a few mugs at a pub down the road. Which was a ruse so that the men would not feel obligated to invite me to join them. When I had my fill, I wandered back to find that everyone had dispersed. So I bunkered down in the most comfortable chair I could find and let me tell you, I will be paying for it all day long." He shrugged his shoulders, the look on his face causing a giggle to escape from Julia's lips. "Several hours later, or less, here you are. Were you… were you looking for me?"

Norrington hated himself for watching so intently as Julia wet her lips with the tip of her tongue as she formulated her words. Although it was difficult to tell in the dark, he could have sworn that there was a faint glow of embarrassment in her cheeks. Her eyes were a deep sapphire blue when they locked with his own. He watched as her chest rose with the intake of a deep breath. "I mean no disrespect Captain, but actually quite the opposite. Please forgive my bluntness, as I have gotten absolutely no sleep these past several hours, but I thought it was you in the room next to mine and was seeking respite from the noise coming through the wall."

Confusion marred his features until it dawned on him just what Miss Ramage was trying to hint without having to say directly. Once he understood, Norrington had to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle the smile that was threatening to envelope his face. So Mister Cobb found someone to warm his sheets. Not that Norrington was terribly surprised – most women flocked Cobb's his good looks and overabundant charm. His First Mate said that while the sea was his wife, having an abundance of mistresses made his marriage bearable. What did surprise him was that Miss Ramage was immune to his powers, considering her profession.

Norrington swallowed hard, refusing to think about what a few coins might buy him from his passenger, refusing to think about how much coin he had on his person at that moment. _Do not think about how long it has been. You made a choice._ "I apologize for the inconvenience he has caused you, Miss Ramage. I will talk to him about it later."

A twinkle shone in Julia's eye. She knew she should not be talking about such topics, but, for the moment, Julia and the captain were sharing a reprieve from their usual banter that was not underscored with hostility. "Please. No need to intervene on my account. The men were all looking to… have some fun. I begrudge no one their enjoyments, even at the expense of my sleep. Well, right now I might, but life is difficult enough that when diversions can be found then they should be followed. But thank you. Your offer is kind."

Norrington laughed again. Very diplomatic, she was. Giving ground on nothing sordid, Miss Ramage was able to allude to what went on behind closed doors without incriminating herself. Norrington knew if he had gotten more sleep, he would actually be less tolerant; he was too exhausted to fully comprehend the dynamics of the conversation. "I cannot promise the hour of which I tell speak with him, but speak to him I shall. And," his smile faded into a smirk, "I will make sure that he is appropriately miserable when I do so. Also, I promise, when I will chat with him, it will be without mention that you spoke to me. I just hope that when we resume voyage this morning, you are able to rest for a few hours. Now, seeing as we are both awake and my stomach is starting to rumble – and the dawn is starting to break – what would you say to us setting out and seeing if there are any bakeries that might be opening?"

_I would say that you are the most peculiar man that I have ever met. First you hold me at arm's length and now we are to be traipsing through the early morn together in search of food. I do not understand you in the least. But I must say that the more time I spend with you, the more I wish to find out about you._

Julia considered his offer; for while her own stomach was starting to make its presence known, there was the fact that it would be inappropriate for her to be out, alone, with a man to whom she was not married, _or employed_, so early in the morning. But, for the moment, he looked so… lighthearted and curious, that she was unable to resist. Not caring that her hair was not properly styled or that it would be inappropriate for her to be seen alone with a man at that time of day, she consented. With the hope that he would not twist her words back into regret. "I would say that I think that is a wonderful idea. A cup of coffee and a heavily buttered muffin sound utterly divine." Holding out her elbow and wrist so that he would be forced to offer his arm for her to take, she continued, "If you will, I think you should lead the way." A dimple appeared in her cheek as she flashed him a brilliant smile.

**A/N**: Thank you to all who read and especially to those of you who give me feedback through reviews! Your words make my day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

When Julia awoke from her nap that afternoon, she felt more restless than rested. Normally, opening the window to her cabin to smell the salty crispness of the sea and listen to roar of the waves as they crashed against the hull of the ship was enough to settle her nerves. Never one to suffer from seasickness, Julia took to the water like the namesake of the ship – Amphitrite.

From what Julia could remember of her Greek mythology, Amphitrite was an ancient Greek sea-goddess and consort of Poseidon. Furrowing her brow in thought, Julia tried to recall what her tutor indoctrinated into her head. Amphitrite was mother of Triton, messenger of the deep, of that Julia was sure. Amphitrite rarely appeared with her husband in works of art or during worship – and thus was not as well known – but she was quite important at time of the creation of her myth, having appeared at the birth of Apollo. Julia remembered several images of the goddess being drawn in a chariot pulled by seahorses with Poseidon beside her and one with crab pinchers at her forehead and nets draped in her tresses.

So, so beautiful. No wonder Norrington has a bust of her on the bow of his ship. But her beauty is not going to make me any less tired. Or distressed. You have got to find something to do rather than sit around and brood. What was it that Mother always said – idle hands are the Devil's playthings? Well, the walls are only getting closer.

When Julia awoke, she felt the unbearable urge to run pell-mell through the maze of passages in the bowels of the ship, just to blow off her pent up energy. Unsure of where such fortitude stemmed from, Julia pushed herself upright and made two decisions: to find something, anything, to occupy her time and to have that something, anything, not involve Mister Cobb. With a brow wrinkled in frustration, Julia swung herself out of bed and decided to explore the labyrinth of hallways below deck.

Julia slowly crept through the bowels of the ship, her tread on the boards light and her senses sharp as she tried to find diversions. She smiled down at her feline companion as the cat followed Julia with blind devotion, purring its contentment. The galley offered no respite from her tedium through either cooking or cleaning, nor did any of the men having any sewing for her to mend. Biting her lip in contemplation, Julia realized that either she went above deck to be entertained or back to her cabin. Neither choice was desirable. Mister Cobb seemed to be above deck, as Julia had yet to run into him. But, so seemed Captain Norrington.

Julia was unwilling to admit, even to herself, that after the enjoyable morning having breakfast with Captain Norrington, she was doing her damnedest to avoid the captain at all costs. Her simple reason was based entirely on the great time they had spent together; something was going to spoil the fragile camaraderie between the two of them. And that something was more than likely Captain Norrington's caustic attitude.

But as Julia climbed the steps to go above deck, she ruminated that maybe Captain Norrington realized his mistake in branding her a soiled dove. After all, he made no advances on her in the inn's common room. In hindsight, his lack of pursuit almost disappointed Julia, a fact she could barely admit even to herself, but only because she considered herself somewhat more appealing to some of the girls she had seen men coaxing back to their rooms.

But Captain Norrington acted as a gentlemanly escort as they explored the streets of Nassau, looking for an open_patisserie_. Both of them revealed little about themselves that morning, their conversations mainly restricted to comments on their surroundings, but occasionally wandering into current events. After spending several hours with the captain, Julia hoped that despite traveling without a chaperone, she had impressed upon him what kind of woman she was. That he would realize she was a woman of virtue and should be treated as such.

_Or at least a woman who will not lie down for a few coins. I hope._

Reaching the deck, Julia looked up at the bowsprit to see who manned the wheel and noticed that Mister Cobb was at the helm; his hands relaxed on the wheel, looking no worse for wear. _'Tis as if he slept like a babe last night._ His gaze, focused on the horizon, shifted when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Julia was bestowed with a flash of white teeth as Mister Cobb smiled at her, followed with a wink. Neither of which she knew how to respond, so, with a slight nod of her head in acknowledgement, Julia headed in the opposite direction and strolled towards the bow of the ship.

The few men she passed barely glanced in her direction, their heads hanging quite low, pathetically trying to fight the effects of gravity and looking quite haggard. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, she nonetheless was unable to suppress her mirth and bestowed each with a beaming smile. None of the men showed any malice towards her; rather, Julia's amusement made a few of the men crack smiles of their own, as if they realized how inane their situations truly were. If having fun caused this kind of effect, Julia mused, then she would rather be bored.

As her steps took her to the fore of the vessel, Julia mused over the events of her life and how, through several strange twists of fate, some her own fault but mostly just random coincidences, they brought her to the deck of the_Amphitrite_. How, too many years ago to recount, she was a child living the most comfortable life in Cheshire that a girl could ever imagine, then suddenly forced into an arranged marriage to a man that she had never met, and then was forced moved a half a world away.

Best not think about that now, as there is very little you can do but keep going forward with your life. No use crying over spilt milk.

So entwined in her own thoughts, Julia realized too late to retreat without raising questions when she noticed the captain at the bow. His attention was caught by something in the water; he was leaning slightly forward with his waist against the railing, his hands clasping the balustrade. _Man overboard? Surely not as he would be more frantic than inquisitive if that were the case._ Intrigued, Julia continued her journey to the front of the ship, trying to make a bit of noise so as to not startle the captain and send him tumbling over the side of his vessel.

Stepping up beside him, Julia turned so that the hollow of her back planted against the rail and her elbows propped on the railing, not caring how improper her attitude was. Turning her head to the side, she let her gaze travel across the horizon before turning to the captain and asking, "Searching for an elusive mermaid or pondering the repercussions of tossing me overboard?"

Julia was relieved to see a smile grace his lips as Captain Norrington turned to face her. His green eyes gleamed with amusement as the wind whipped tendrils of hair loose from his queue. With the sun beating down on him, his brown hair burnished nearly golden in the sun, the captain looked every inch a sea god rising from the foam.

With a raised brow, he replied dryly, "No mermaids in these waters, but now that you are on to my plans, I suppose I might have to change my tactics." When his response elicited a bemused smile in return, Norrington continued. "Actually, your dolphins are back and, I swear, they keep looking up here. Come. Take a peek. It must be you they are seeking. For they have no interest in the conversation I have been hurling down at them. And blessed be, " the captain motioned Julia closer to his side. "I think that they heard you!"

Shyly, Julia slid closer to the captain and leaned forward. A smile curved her lips and a laugh escaped from her throat as she watched the dolphins ride the surf. As if on cue, the pod of dolphins all looked up and began to chatter amongst each other.

"See? I told you so!" Norrington felt a sense of rapture that had been absent in his heart for too long. His life had become somewhat of a charade over the past several years, with Norrington just going through the motions set forth by others, but with the presence of one Miss Ramage on his boat, Captain Norrington found himself experiencing emotions he thought were long since forgotten. And while the feelings made him feel rather heady, as if having one pint too many, he was not entirely sure if he liked surrendering his ironclad control over his emotions.

Feeling a blush tinge her cheeks, Julia floundered for something else to talk about, something to deflect the attention away from her. After their breakfast, and now this interaction, the two of them were now in very unfamiliar territory. Did something happen that she did not recall that caused this truce between them or was the conviviality only fleeting?

"They are magnificent. I just wish I could interact with them somehow. Like with birds, where you can throw them a few crumbs? Thank you for pointing them out; seeing them fills my heart with such joy it makes breathing difficult." Seeing the captain smiling indulgently at her, Julia ducked her head to hide the pink tingeing her cheeks. Taking a deep breath to regain her composure, Julia decided to change topics. "It has turned out to be a fine afternoon. With clear skies and this wind, which seems to be with us rather than against us, how long shall it take before we reach port? A few days?" Julia tried to find a neutral topic of conversation. Until she knew for certain that their accord was not precarious, at best, Julia felt it safest to keep discourse to topics of certitude; attempting conversation of a personal vein might prove disastrous and hurtful – to herself.

_Of course she wants to get back to her life in Charles Towne. Of course she is not interested in the dolphins at her feet. Of course she is not interested in life on the ship. And of course she is certainly not interested in… me_.

Realizing that Julia was expecting an answer, and that his thoughts had gotten away from him, Norrington shook his head emphatically – desperately trying to rid his mind of the thoughts in his head. Especially the last contemplation. Such thinking would not do at all. _And where on earth did that… pang come from? _

"Well, save for the possible storm we might encounter between here and Charles Towne, I would say that your presumption is correct. However, there is a lot of ocean to cover over the next several days. Anything could happen. Best not to go looking for trouble by considering what might delay us." He paused, allowing his thoughts to drift. "Why do you ask? Are you in a rush to get back home?"

The tone of his words became cold. Distant. A fact that was not lost on Julia.

Putting her hand up in a deferential gesture, Julia tried to appease the volatile captain. "Well, not a rush, but is not everyone anxious to return home after being away? Especially after leaving rather unexpectedly? Now please, Captain Norrington, do not think I am looking for trouble of any kind. I only ask, because my journey to the Caribbean was smooth and uneventful. But now that we are moving away from the islands and towards the mainland, I must admit that I cannot help but to fear the worst. I have found, in my albeit limited experiences, that with the good times comes the bad."

Norrington peered at Julia down the length of his nose, a barbed comment on the tip of his tongue. Not only did she want to be as far away from him in as short amount of time as possible, but Miss Ramage was now openly courting disaster. _Could she be any more exasperating?_

"I see," was his only reply.

Knowing she was stumbling over her own tongue, Julia tried to salvage the conversation. "I did not mean to speak so freely. I apologize for overstepping my boundaries. I have always been pessimistic; I must confess that it is one of my most grievous flaws." She paused a moment, closing her eyes and willing her pounding heart to slow, before trying to make one last attempt at smoothing things over. "It has to be a brave man to navigate these waters on a regular basis…"

Norrington knew she was baiting, but curiosity got the better him. "What a curious thing to say. What makes you think that?" His inflection was snide.

He was angry and Julia had no idea as to what precipitated the reason. "Well, with cutthroat pirates roaming the waters, looking for cargo to plunder…" Julia's voice dropped away, as if unsure if she should continue.

Captain Norrington pushed himself away from the rail and took a step towards his passenger, menace lacing his every movement. Who did she think she was? To be so presumptuous as to think she knew what the waters held? "Pirates? What do you know of pirates?" He hated the fact that his animated arm movement punctuated his words, but felt helpless to stop them.

Julia took an involuntary step backwards and raised her hand to her throat in a defensive gesture. "Well, my husband–."

"Husband?" The word was spoken with such a spasm of venom that it surprised even himself. Color formed high on his cheeks while the rest of his pallor went pasty white. Pain shot through his hands as they balled into fists, his fingernails cutting into his flesh. The shock was so great that he felt himself start to shake in rage.

The anger in his voice surprised Julia. Why would Captain Norrington be upset that she was married? If anything, her rectitude should have suddenly improved with such news. Being married meant that she was no longer a wanton woman, did it not? _What is wrong with this man?_

Julia cocked her head in confusion, her brow furrowed in perplexity. "Yes. He… uhm… he once mentioned tha–."

_She has a husband._ Instead of everything suddenly making sense, Norrington felt the world around him start to swim. It was all he could to keep from reaching out and grabbing a hold of the handrail to keep his balance. Looking at Miss Ramage, or rather Missus Ramage, he saw that her lips were moving in speech but heard none of the words that she spoke. _She has a husband._

"I apologize," Norrington interrupted, his voice suddenly silk. "But I just remembered that I have pressing matters that I must attend to. Good evening, _Missus_ Ramage." There was unmistakable emphasis on her title. Once again, Julia watched his retreating back as scurried away from her with as great haste as possible.

**A/N**: OH. MY. GOODNESS. Thank you so very much for your kind words and encouragement. I will try to update often, but not so often that I can't leave you in suspense from time to time. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

**A/N**: A very quick update to the story, but only because I was trying for several days to upload the previous chapter. Again, thanks to all of you who have read and a very special thank you to my reviewers. I appreciate your patience with the story!

Julia opened her eyes, squinting into the darkness in an attempt to see, and pushed herself up onto her elbow. She could have sworn that she heard music, but try as she might all Julia heard was the sound of the waves crashing against the ship's hull.

_Must have been just a dream._

After several moments, straining to hear the song that pulled her from sleep, Julia gave up and plopped back down against her pillows, closing her eyes.

_"I'm a rover, seldom sober, I'm a rover of high degree  
It's when I'm drinkin' I'm always thinkin' how to gain my love's company"_

Her eyes popped back open.

_I knew it! _

Sighing in a cross between amusement and frustration, Julia nudged the cat off the bed, then tossed back her coverlet and rose. Now that she knew it was not just a dream there would be no returning to slumber just yet, as Julia knew she would hear every note of the song, so she figured she would find the source of the music.

_"Though the night be as dark as dungeon, not a star can be seen above  
I will be guided without a stumble, into the arms of my own true love"_

Grabbing her dress, she quickly donned it and pulled her hair back with a ribbon. Despite the impropriety, Julia opted against shoes. She had no intention of staying up too much later; Julia just wanted to see what the celebrating was all about.

_"I'm a rover, seldom sober, I'm a rover of high degree  
It's when I'm drinkin' I'm always thinkin' how to gain my love's company"_

Opening the cabin door a crack, Julia watched her feline friend slip into the hallway. The singing became louder, more distinct and clear. Making sure that there was no one coming in either direction, Julia crept into the darkness, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

_"He stepped up to her bedroom window, kneeling gently upon a stone  
He whispers through her bedroom window, my darling dear do you lie alone"_

Julia crept along, her bare feet making no sound on the rough wood planks as she followed the music. She had to stop every so often to get her bearings, as the hour was late and all the lanterns had long since been turned down – and in some cases, extinguished.

_"I'm a rover, seldom sober, I'm a rover of high degree  
It's when I'm drinkin' I'm always thinkin' how to gain my love's company"_

Her hand sliding across the smooth handrail, Julia slowly traversed the steps leading down to the crew's quarters. Knowing Captain Norrington would be furious if he caught her, Julia hesitated only slightly before continuing onward. After all, she would just claim that they woke her and was only investigating the source of the noise.

_"It's only me your own true lover, open the door and let me in  
For I have come on a long nights journey and I'm near drenched to the skin"_

Light radiated from around the corner and shadows danced on the hallway walls. As each step brought her closer to the music, Julia stopped listening to the lyrics of the song and started listening to the voice of the singer. More melancholy than sad, her heart did a little skip at the thought of how far away the men had to be from their family and friends.

_"I'm a rover, seldom sober, I'm a rover of high degree  
It's when I'm drinkin' I'm always thinkin' how to gain my love's company"_

Julia peeked around the corner, amused by the scene before her. Several of the men were involved in an animated game of cards, their voices low as to not drown out the melody. The others were laying in their hammocks, with either a mug of rum in hand to help push them over to sleep or they were already well on their way to dreamland, hands clasped behind their heads.

"_She opened the door with the greatest pleasure, she opened the door and she let him in  
They both shook hands and embraced each other, until the morning they lay as one"_

Mister Wolfe stayed his fingers on the fretboard of his mandolin and turned to face the darkness, the song reminding him of his late wife and their courtship. But the low light splashed against the delicate features of Captain Norrington's passenger, whose face was contorted in a cross between delight and exhaustion. Mister Wolfe mentally willed her back to bed, but was pleased to see her in a dress rather than nightgown as the men were sleepy, but they would all be instantly awake if the passenger showed the slightest hint of impropriety. _I bet the poor poppet just wants to get some sleep, but music must have been too much of a draw after all the boredom on the ship_.

"Are we bothering you, Miss Ramage?" Mister Wolfe made sure his voice was low and soft, lest he startle the woman before him.

Julia took a step backwards, hiding in the shadows of the doorway, shyly shaking her head in the negative. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, despite her efforts to appear impassive. "Nay. I should apologize for intruding upon your time. It is just… that… I thought I heard music. Which, obviously, I did. But when I realized that it was not just a dream, but indeed fact, I admit that I became curious. Please, go back to your playing, Mister Wolfe. 'Tis a shame to quiet such a talent. And Mister Greene, your voice is lovely. Please continue."

The ship's boatswain colored red at the compliment directed towards his voice, but smiled brightly in response. "Please. Join us. We have very little to offer but song, however…" his voice trailed off at the shaking of Julia's head.

The hour was late and sleep was luring Julia back to bed. Struggling to not only keep her eyes open, but to stay upright, she hated barging in on the men only to immediately turn around and leave. But the captain would verbally explode – or worse – if he saw her amongst the crew. Knowing that she needed to get back before the captain noted her presence amongst the men, Julia smiled in gratitude. "No, but I thank you. I really should get back–."

"Missus Ramage! I thought I told you to keep away from my men!"

Julia spun around, Captain Norrington's venomous words raked across her skin with the same pain as a sword edge. The scowl on his face would have been enough to stop a run-away horse dead in its tracks. Julia felt her eyes narrow in response, her chin jutting out in indignation. She felt her fingers curl, her hands balling into fists. How dare he accuse her of dallying with his crew! Especially after she reveled having a husband. _What nerve. But at least my title has been adjusted accordingly._

Her reaction inflamed the captain and he slammed his palm against the wall to the left of her head. How dare she act like the wronged party! Obviously letting his guard down around was an error in his judgment. Norrington wanted nothing more than to shake the living daylights out of his passenger so in order to curb his desire, he busied his hands by repeatedly raking his fingers through his hair.

Swallowing hard, Julia decided to try a different tactic. Taking several deep breaths, Julia locked gazes with the captain and, after a moment, curved her lips into a syrupy smile and said sweetly, "I was just about to thank the men for the lullaby's they were playing to help put me to sleep. In fact, I was about to put in a request before I retreated back to my cabin. But if you have more pressing matters for them to attend to, I shall retire now and get out of your way."

An eyebrow arched. "And just what song was it that you were asking them to sing?"

Was he trying to catch her in a lie? Well, in theory he did, she mused, so Julia picked the first song she could think of. "I had not yet had a chance to ask. But if you must know, I was to request _Broom of the Cowdenknowes_." Not even giving a second thought as to where the melody suggestion came from, for she hated the melancholy tune, Julia turned back to the men and asked, "Do any of you know how to play it? I would much like to hear it as I drift off to sleep. That is, if you find that acceptable." Julia spun back to face the captain, her hair flying like a whip behind her.

His voice was icy with barely restrained fury. "What I would find acceptable, Missus Ramage, would be for you to retire to your cabin. Right now. Alone."

Julia's eyes narrowed. She could feel each set of eyes boring into the back of her head as she stared down the most insufferable man she had ever met. _And I have met my fair share_. Her hands balled into fists as she tried her best to radiate enough anger to physically knock down the captain. Her mind raced as she attempted to formulate an appropriate response.

Rather than sputtering out a retort that would make her look any more foolish, Julia decided that the best response was to turn the tables on the captain. To take the emphasis off of her and to set it squarely on his shoulders. "Do you speak to your wife like you do me? Or am I just lucky enough to bear your entire hatred towards the fairer sex?" she finally spat out. Not quite he retort she was looking for, but it would do.

Norrington looked as if he had been struck. Even in the low light, Julia could see the color drain from his skin. The corners of his mouth tightened. His nostrils flared. "That will be enough, Missus Ramage! I think it would be most appropriate if you retired to your quarters. Now."

It then dawned on Mister Wolfe just what Captain Norrington had been inferring. Seeing that Miss Ramage was putting up a brave front despite the accusations being lobbed at her – even they could possibly be true – he felt had to intervene on her behalf. "Captain, 'twas nothing like you be thinking. If nothing else, it should be us apologizing to her for the commotion we caused that pulled her from sleep. Jes' let her be captain."

Pressing his lips tightly together to bite back a retort that might cause mutiny, Captain Norrington surveyed his men with a calculated eye. All stared back at him with open curiosity. Norrington knew that if he played the scene out incorrectly, all respect from his crew would be lost. If he pushed the issue, the man would abandon their obedience to him and side with Missus Ramage. However, if Norrington backed down from his stance, it would set a precedence that the men would try to work to their advantage in future disputes. Norrington then again looked at the woman before him, disgusted with her wantonness and the spell she had cast on his men.

A near-tangible tension hung in the air as Norrington and Julia stared one another down, while the crew watched in hushed fascination to see who would back down first. After a good amount of time had passed, with neither one budging, Quartermaster Samuel Heaney decided that enough was enough and echoed the earlier words of Mister Wolfe.

"Captain, be it as it may, we were the one's who woke up poor Miss Ramage. Now, I think we should all follow your advice and blow out the lanterns. What say you men?" Mister Heaney turned to the crew and commanded them with his eyes to agree.

But his glare was unnecessary. The men were as uncomfortable as the quartermaster and a chorus of "Ayes!" quickly followed. Satisfied, Mister Heaney turned back to the captain, his arms folded across his chest and a smug expression painting his features.

Which quickly dissipated at the withering expression Norrington bestowed upon the quartermaster. However, Norrington decided enough was enough. In a battle of wills, he and Missus Ramage would remain engaged for hours. Given the opportunity to move past their stalemate, Norrington grasped at it… even if the end result was somewhat different than he had hoped. "Anyone – and I mean anyone – who is not supposed to be above deck at this moment, I highly suggest that you douse the lights. I will be making rounds in fifteen minutes hence." With that, he spun on his heel and departed as quickly as he appeared.

Rather than feeling vindicated that the crew had rushed to her defense, Julia somehow felt that she was going to regret the outcome of the altercation. The captain was an extremely proud man who lived by his convictions. And he was convinced that Julia was…

_A whore. Maybe even worse than that. Morally bankrupt? Does he now think that I will lie down indiscriminately? And without the benefit of payment? That man! What happened to the tentative… friendship… we had cultivated at the inn? Is there a man in this world that might treat me with an ounce of respect?_

The men were starting to put away their diversions. A yawn escaped her lips despite her attempts to squelch the action. Sleep was starting to beckon her back to bed despite the adrenaline rushing through her veins, but before Julia retreated back to her cabin she wanted to thank the men. Unsure of what to say, Julia wet her lips and turned away to ruminate on how to express herself. As she pivoted, Julia found herself watching the retreating back of the captain. As the shadows cloaked the captain into the darkness, Julia pondered his unhappiness and what may have caused such pain in a man living such a footloose and carefree lifestyle.

Suddenly feeling deflated, Julia leaned against the doorframe and sighed. No words came to her, but a serene smile came to her lips when the cat reappeared by brushing itself against her ankles. Scooping the feline up into her arms, Julia rubbed her cheek against the top of its head. "Thank you for everything. Pleasant dreams," she said, unsure if anyone actually heard her. Then, with an exaggerated curtsey to the men, Julia retreated from the men's quarters to her cabin.


	8. Chapter 8

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

"Whatcha doing?"

Julia closed the book she was reading and set it aside before looking over to the doorway. Leaning against the open door to her cabin was none other than First Mate Thaddeus Cobb. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, showing heavily furred arms that were folded across his chest. A smirk twisted his full lips as he looked down at Julia as she lay in her bed. Julia surmised that he thought himself quite dashing as he peered at her down the length of his nose.

Her left brow arched in curiosity, but she found the weight of his stare overpowering and dropped her gaze from his. Instead, she looked down at the coverlet she lay upon, her fingers instinctively finding a loose thread to worry. Julia then smiled to herself as she pushed herself upright and swung her legs off her berth. Sighing, Julia shook her head, trying not to laugh at the man before her. He looked so earnest and resolved. Julia had been quite caught up in her novel that she had to wonder how long Mister Cobb had been watching her. _No matter, for all he can do is look._

"Absolutely nothing of importance. How may I help you this oppressively hot afternoon?" Julia plastered a smile on her face and tried to appear quite charmed and interested, but also very proper as he was one of the few men who did not rally to support her last night. Her hands were folded in her lap as she waited for an explanation.

His smirk spread to a full-fledged grin as he pivoted from leaning against the far side of the doorway to the side closest to Julia. His pant leg brushed against the fabric of her skirt, an act Julia did not chalk up to coincidence. It took all her willpower to not physically flinch. "I came by to see if you might want to go for a walk."

Julia wanted to laugh out loud at the thought. A thin sheen of sweat beaded on her upper lip and Julia could feel a trickle of perspiration ease its way past her shoulder blades. The day was sweltering and only promised to get worse, as it was just past noon. Instead, Julia pressed her lips together so tightly a white line formed and then nodded her head, as if considering the thought – until she could think of an appropriate refusal. It was so warm that a witty rebuke was not forthcoming.

Julia stalled instead. Maybe she could reason him out of his idea. "Really? It would seem a might bit warm for a stroll."

Mister Cobb absently nodded his head in agreement, then pushed himself off the doorframe and entered the room. He then plopped himself in the chair that had been provided for Julia to have her meals. Julia quirked a brow at the audacity of the first mate to enter her quarters without consent but said nothing, waiting for his response. Once he was seated, she did not have long to wait.

"Aye, that it is. But I thought there was no need for you to hole up in your cabin and sulk. The sun is shining and the water is glorious, sparkling like a million diamonds. 'Twould be a shame to miss such a day by keeping your nose in a book."

"Sulk?" _He thinks I am in here sulking?_

He shrugged his shoulders, noncommittal, mountains rising and falling. Thick fingers raked through his hair, disheveling the locks more than smoothing them into place. It was obvious that much discomfort thrummed through his body, as he was unable to sit still. In his restless agitation, he spied her valise under the bed. As he reached for it, Julia stood in anger, knowing what the first mate was attempting to grasp and hell-bent on preventing him from seeing his curiosity through to fruition. Surprised at the sudden movement, Mister Cobb moved back into an upright position, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His dark eyes bored into hers, dangerous promises dancing in their depths. "Well, why else are you here in your cabin?"

Confused by the turn of events, Julia sat back down, shaking her head slightly, feeling her brow furrow in frustration. Were all the men of the same presumption? And what the Bloody Hell was with grabbing for her personal belongings? "You mean, besides this unbearable heat?"

Mister Cobb leaned forward in the chair, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped before him. A sympathetic smile curved his lips, but there was a lack of sincerity behind the action. The strength of his stare was a near-tangible grasp on her person. "Come now, 'tis warm for certain but it is not all that bad. I could recall, easily, days that were much hotter than today. I just presumed that you sought refuge in your berth because of the altercation last night."

It took everything in her power not to roll her eyes. Julia could admit to herself that the opinion of the captain pained her more than it should, but that was certainly not why she was laying on her bed in the middle of the day with her cabin window open, along with an open door. There would be no explaining that she seeking respite from the mid-day swelter, so Julia decided to continue the conversation by playing dense. _Not that I have much of a choice._ "Altercation? Between the captain and myself, you mean? And yes, I am sure you have known hotter days than this, but that would only be more reason for me to stay quiet and keep out of the sun. I do not budge on my reasons, no matter how hard you push."

Mister Cobb smiled, knowing that she was being intentionally obtuse. Even if she were less attractive, he would be in her room, asking if they could spend some time together; it was just his nature. But her beauty was only enhanced by her humor and intellect – making her nearly irresistible. From the moment he laid eyes on her, discussing terms of booking passage with the captain, there was no doubt in the first mate's mind that he would bed her before her trip was over. But when Julia looked aghast at his suggestion that she was brooding, it was all he could do from closing the distance between the two of them and pinning her to the bed. The anger that flared up so quickly only cemented his presumption that other passions would so quickly blaze.

And despite her protests, he knew that for the right amount of money – and sweet-talking – that his diversion for the evening was sitting right before him. He would rather not part with his coin if his silver tongue could persuade entrance to her mouth – and other regions. Mister Cobb had bedded enough whores who were unwilling to take his coin because of his gilded words enticed them instead, but even more who had said no until they saw the actual coin he offered. But if she wanted to play the lady, he was willing to entertain her illusions. However, he would be patient for only for so long…

His words were syrupy, nearly causing Julia to physically wince. No one talked in such a tone unless someone had died. "We were all very grieved that the captain would choose such a time to… have such a conversation. So I thought I would come and check on you, make sure all was well. And, I must confess, I had hoped to steal some of your time to get to know you a little better. Hence, the offer of a stroll above deck. Forgive me for being so forward, but the combination of beauty and intellect are too much for me to resist."

Julia was unable to prevent the wry grin from twisting her lips. There would be no need to eat any sweets between now and the end of the year, as what he was laying on her was as rich and thick as the icing on her Grandmother's birthday cakes Julia used to beg for every year. Mister Cobb certainly knew how to weave his words and Julia had to wonder how many other female passengers, unmarried or not, he had been successful in bedding. There was no concern in his eyes, just lust. It might even be flattering, in some twisted way, if Julia did not know that he had – and would do so in the future – used these same words on other women. Knowing she was one of many in a long line of wooing made Julia feel disgusted rather than adulated.

So Julia chose her next words carefully, lest she antagonize the man before her. "That is very kind of you. But there is little to know of me. You are the one with the adventurous lifestyle. I am but a simple woman with a humble life. There is nothing to tell." Julia wanted to hold her cards close. Despite knowing what the man before her was after, Julia had not been yet propositioned and did not want to give him any fodder nor any leverage.

Mister Cobb chuckled, as if told an uproariously humorous tale. Most women loved to speak of themselves, but the one before him was doing her best to twist and parry his attentions. Nonetheless, he would break through her shell. Mister Cobb had yet to meet a woman who was immune to his charms. While he did not enjoy having to use a heavy hand, there were times when he had to get rough in order to get his partner to agree. But they all submitted in the end.

Trying another tactic, he asked, "What brings you to Charles Towne?"

Composing her face into a serene mask, Julia smoothed her skirts, the movement acting as a distraction as she carefully slid her left foot closer to the door. In just a moment she was going to stand and scurry quickly above deck where the others would see her resisting the first mate's advances. Julia just had to get up the stairs before Mister Cobb was able to reach her. "I am returning home."

He nodded his head as if told the most interesting of facts, his hand rubbing his chin. The sound off his fingernails raking across his stubble caused Julia to flinch. Mister Cobb slid to the edge of the seat, leaning that much closer to Julia, before he asked, "Then what brought you to Jamaica?"

Was there no way to hint that she did not want to have this conversation? Julia latched her door from the inside at night, but now it looked like she would have to do so during the day. The door had been open to allow for a possible crosscurrent of breeze to slip through the room. A breeze that only teased and taunted but never gave the cool caress Julia was hoping for. _Of course, a woman lying on a bed during the day might mean more than I realized to these men. This man._ "Family. I went to visit my sister, then ended up booking passage with the _Amphitrite _to get back home. So, here we are."

"So here we are," he echoed. Mister Cobb then looked down at his hands, fiddling with his cuticles. He was using the tactic to not only formulate his next plan of attack, but to also appear hesitant and demure. It was obvious that Julia was trying to resist his advances, but Mister Cobb chalked it more to propriety rather than lack of interest.

This moment of respite gave Julia time to contemplate the man just a few feet from her person.

Never had she seen such a beautiful man, of this she could be honest. He had dark brown hair that brushed just past the collar of his shirt when loose from a queue, like it was at that moment. A high, proud forehead rose over velvet brown eyes and a smooth brow. His nose was strong and straight, perched above full lips that created a hard, yet sensuous mouth that were currently curved in a smirk. His cheeks, shaven smooth that morning, was starting to show signs of growth. His jaw was powerful and chiseled, topped by a cleft chin. Julia knew that many women would be thrilled to be in her position; she was not so sure if she was so captivated. His fitted clothes reflected a broad chest and fit physique, both of which intimidated her. But, truth be told, it was nice to have someone be pleasant with her; it had been so long since someone had sought out her company.

He suddenly looked up, his gaze boring into Julia's eyes. It was as if he knew her thoughts. "So," his voice was like silk. "Would you like to go for that stroll?"

The power of his stare was overwhelming when all of his charisma was behind his gaze. It took everything in her being to not slowly nod her head in the heady intoxication of his charm. She swallowed hard, forcing herself back to reality. "I… I think I would actually like to stay in here, out of the sun. I… I think that would be best."

He wet his lips, the pink of his tongue in stark contrast with the tan of his skin. He then nodded his head, as if coming to the same conclusion as Julia. A look of pure pleasure washed over his features. "I see. Certainly. I am completely amiable to adjusting my itinerary for the afternoon. So I shall go find a deck of cards for us to play, to while away the hours. While I am searching for a deck, I might find us something to eat. A bite of something, if you will. After all, you look like a woman of healthy… appetites. I shall return shortly."

The room suddenly became a second skin, the walls shrinking inward so that it was impossible to breathe. Julia wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room like a jackrabbit. Instead of getting the hint and leaving, he was going to stay with her? Already she had mental images of Mister Cobb attempting to hand feed her bits of dried meats. She fought the urge to shudder and instead tried to formulate a plan.

_If he was not just looking for a tumble, and I saw him across a ballroom, there would be little I would not do to try and catch his eye._ But now that she was in his sights, Julia felt nothing less than filthy and wanted to be as far away from the first mate as possible.

_Well, he has to leave to get the cards. Maybe once he leaves, I could slip from the room and then go find refuge amongst the other men. Or… they might try to join in the fun._ And Julia was not quite such what the term fun might entail. She shuddered at the thought. _I could just lock him out. That would send a message, loud and clear._

And quite possibly make him very angry.

Mister Cobb suddenly stood, his presence filling the space of the room. His arms stretched over his head as he worked the kinks out of his back, fingers just barely grazing the ceiling. Realizing that Julia was watching him twist and stretch, Mister Cobb flashed Julia a brilliant smile. This time, Julia was unable to hold back an eye roll, but as she had been taught, Julia also stood, not sure if the first mate should be considered a guest or not.

A look of relief washed over his features as he said, almost to himself, "I thought so," then closed the distance between the two of them. Julia could feel the heat radiate off his body as his hands clasped her arms, pulling her body to his. Pressing her hands flat against his chest, Julia tried to push him away, but he held her tight.

"Please," Julia hated that her voice was barely more than a whisper. "I… I think that you misread my intent. I… I just want to–."

His voice was low and thick. "I know what you want. The same as I. I have seen the way you look at me. Do not even try to deny it, as we both knew this moment was inevitable."

Julia struggled against the first mate as his lips descended upon hers. His lips were hungry and insistent, his tongue trying to delve into the recesses of her mouth. One hand crept around to the hollow of her back, pulling her against him, leaving her no doubt of his desire. The other hand caressed the back of her shoulders, fingering the buttons running down the length of her dress. Without her noticing, his hand managed to slip past the fastenings of her garment and play along the stays of her corset, causing Julia to gasp in shock and outrage. Since her lips were crushed against his, the opening of Julia's mouth gave Mister Cobb the opportunity to explore her mouth with his velvet tongue.

The sound of her hand striking his face shocked even Julia. Then, with all of her might, she shoved him away; his back slammed against the wall. Her voice was not her own when Julia commanded, "Get out! Now!"

Mister Cobb stared at Julia in stunned silence, rubbing his face gingerly, breathing heavily. Julia stepped back as she saw the rage of fire in the first mate's eyes. There was no doubt that he intended to strike her, but Julia had taken a beating before and, for the most part, was able to keep from crying out. But as soon as he moved to strike, Julia would make a dash for the hallway. She just prayed that his momentum would give her enough time to scurry up the steps to the main deck. Let him try to explain to his shipmates why he was beating a woman.

"Mister Cobb, I highly suggest that you follow Missus Ramage's suggestion. Go relieve Mister Greene from the helm of the ship and leave our passenger alone."

The icy words were a symphony of joy to Julia. Both she and Mister Cobb turned in unison to see Captain Norrington filling the doorway, his left brow arched smugly and his hands clasped behind his back. The only sign of the captain's anger was the staccato rhythm of his foot tapping against the wooden floorboards.

"But…"

Julia heard music soar in her heart as the first mate pouted the weak rebuttal to the captain.

"Now!" The hostility in Captain Norrington's voice caused Julia to jump. A wave of anger rolled over her, but this time it warmed her like a favorite blanket. Never more grateful to see the captain, Julia was curious to see how the rest of the altercation played out.

Grumbling under his breath, the first mate left the room, jostling against both Julia and the captain as he did so. His heavy steps on the stairs reverberated down the hallway, punctuated by his hand slamming against the walls intermittently. Julia involuntarily shuddered, as if a tendril of cold air worked its way down her neck. Allowing her mind to process what had just happened, Julia sighed and felt her hands begin to tremble in anger and embarrassment.

The captain lingered in the hallway, as if unsure as to what he should say to his passenger. Julia could feel his gaze boring into her as she looked at the tops of her shoes, her cheeks burning in shame. But at least he saw her fighting off the advances of one of his crewmembers. Certainly he did not blame her. And he was not lecturing her for her wanton ways. Yet.

Julia ventured a look.

Through the fringe of her lashes, Julia saw that the captain, his hands still clasped behind his back, was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, as if unsure of what to say. As if unsure if he should stay or dart away. He was looking at her, but Julia was unsure if he truly saw her. Rather, his thoughts seemed to be a million miles away.

"Captain Norrington?"

At the sound of Julia's voice, Captain Norrington wet his lips and tried to smile, but it came off as a grimace. But his eyes locked into hers as he waited to hear what his passenger had to say. For once, Julia felt herself at a loss for words, not knowing how to articulate herself with the one person whom vexed her at every turn.

Taking a deep breath and straightened her back, Julia's bravado was false but she hoped that the captain was unable to tell. Or, at least, overlook her attempts at acting valiant and play along. "How much did you see?"

"Enough." His strained voice was barely audible, as if exhausted. Or in pain. "Enough to know that Mister Cobb will not be sailing under my command once we make port. Enough to know that you wanted no part of his… advances. Enough to know that I was right in wanting to keep you away from the men. But not for the reasons I first thought. Rest assured, I am not irritated with you, despite being very, very angry. And rest assured, in no way will your path cross his during the remainder of the passage. Please do not be afraid of having a repeat encounter. I… Is there anything I might be able to do for you? I feel very responsible for what has happened."

Julia shook her head in the negative, biting her top lip. After a long moment, she whispered, "No. But thank you. I am sorry you had to intercede on my behalf, but words cannot express my gratitude. Now, I know you have other tasks that you must attend to, so I shall not keep you. And, not surprising I suppose, I find myself exhausted. If you do not mind, I want nothing more than to lock myself in here and take a nap, in the hopes that I might be able to dream that none of this happened. I… You… Thank you for being in the right place at the right time. Is there any way I might be of service to you before I rest? I am indebted to you in so many ways."

The earnest look painting her features made Julia look several years younger than she did just moments ago. Wanting nothing more than to crush her to his chest in a backbreaking hug, whispering words of calm, Captain Norrington was mildly disturbed at his own reaction. Not that he would act on his impulse, but how could he refuse Missus Ramage anything? At that moment, if she had asked for ownership of his vessel, Norrington knew he would be hard pressed to decline.

"I need nothing except the knowledge that you are unhurt. And since I have that, I bid you adieu. If you need anything, you have my word that you will not run into Mister Cobb, so please come find me. Now, I am off to go deal with him now." Captain Norrington watched his passenger place a slim hand on the door to her cabin. Exhaustion shadowed her eyes, her skin paler than before. A weak smile played at the corner of her lips as the door gently shut, the latch scratching against wood before clicking into place. Despite knowing she could not see him, Norrington bowed gracefully, then made his way down the passageway, each step taking him closer to the flogging he was about to begin.


	9. Chapter 9

Julia shuddered as fingers of lightening skittered across the night sky, illuminating the wood of the deck as if it were liquid gold. The wind had picked up considerably, pulling her hair loose from its knot, whipping the skin of her cheeks. Drops of water pelted her face, stinging with each impact, as the wind caused whitecaps to appear on the waves. Wrapping her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, Julia hugged her arms across her chest and watched, helpless, as the men ran across the deck, fastening rigging and doing their best to keep the ship properly balanced. It was promising to be a brutal storm. Julia was terrified to stay and watch, lest she get in the way, but even more afraid to move below deck, where she would be even closer to the watery depths that threatened to drag them to their watery graves.

Despite hearing the tales that Davy Jones was no longer a threat to passengers of the sea, Julia really did not want to find out firsthand.

_I just want to get home. Is that so difficult?_

"Missus Ramage, the storm is about to unleash all its fury down on us. This is no place for you… no place for anyone. I highly suggest that you take shelter in your cabin. Immediately."

The hushed voice of Captain Norrington ghosted across her skin, like a whisper in the night. Julia turned, about to say that it was the first time they were ever in agreement, but the man before her was a stranger. His eyes were empty of all emotion, constantly moving as he scanned the darkening sky, with its ominous clouds, and the crew that was restrained terror in motion. But, for once, Julia was glad of his remoteness, his single-handed focus of the disaster at hand. Captain Norrington was fixated on getting through the potential calamity and be damned anything that got in the way of saving the ship. If he showed any signs of fear, Julia knew she would be in the throws of panic.

Knowing that his request was more of a command, and one best carried out, Julia silently nodded her head and was about to turn so that she could head below deck when Norrington said, softly, "I know how difficult it can be to ride out a storm below deck. I do not envy the animals in their cages and pens. Would you feel safer taking refuge in my quarters? I will not be there and you will not be so far into the bowels of her hull that you feel trapped. But you have to decide quickly…"

A cross between a sigh and gasp passed through Julia's lips. She blinked several times as she considered his suggestion. His offer was certainly generous and charitable. And quite surprising. But, by the look in his eyes, heartfelt also. It did not take her long to acquiesce.

"Thank you," she said softly, barely audible above the barrage of the storm, knowing that the words were unable to convey how beholden she felt to Captain Norrington for his generosity.

But her words managed to make their way through the din and reached the captain's ears. He smiled tightly, but there was a kindness in the depths of his emerald orbs that glinted in the darkness. The terror that was building deep in her abdomen was subsiding slightly. She had to trust the men to do their jobs. But trust was an emotion that was as foreign to her as the tongue spoken by the native people of the Caribbean; Julia just did not understand how. And after being held at arm's length for so long, it was difficult to immediately follow the orders of the captain.

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, time she knew she did not truly have, Julia turned her face to the heavens and spoke reverently, almost like a prayer to God.

"'Since I was man,  
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of torrid thunder  
Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never  
Remember to have heard.'"

Norrington watched the emotions wash over Missus Ramage's face. In the darkness, her skin glowed with a luminescence that appeared otherworldly. But when the lightening danced across the sky, causing the night to be lit as if day, he saw the fear bruising shadows beneath her eyes and the deep furrow of concern between her eyes. But he had no time to coddle a simpering female, not when his men's lives were at stake. "_King Lear_, Missus Ramage. Now, I have matters to attend to. I will find you when the danger has passed. And I assure you, no matter what, I shall retrieve you. Now, please, seek shelter from the storm."

Julia nodded her head in comprehension, but the captain was already halfway to the helm of the ship; his stride confident and precise, despite the water rolling across the deck. "Thank you, Captain Norrington!" she shouted at his retreating back, hoping he could hear her above the wind.

A raised hand in acknowledgement showed that her words were carried to his ears. Wrapping her arms even tighter around herself, despite being completely drenched and thoroughly chilled, Julia turned and scrambled across the slick boards to his cabin door. With a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and entered the captain's private quarters, her ever-present feline shadow at her heels.

o.o.o.o.o

The cabin door flung open, crashing against the wall, startling Julia from her prayers. A gasp escaped past her lips as she turned her face away from the corner of the room she had been huddled in, towards the sound of the commotion. Filling the doorway looked to be a shadow of the captain, but the actual man standing before her was a wreck. Julia had been kneeling in the corner, terrified that she would meet her end in the watery depths, a thrice-prayed rosary in her hands. After a moment's hesitation, Julia quickly rose to her feet, smoothing the front of her skirt as she stood. Daring to cast a glance out the window out of the corner of her eye, she was relieved that the skies looked calm and peaceful as the moon caused the water to glow luminescent, rippling waves of silver. She was just unsure if another storm was about to brew in the cabin.

Norrington looked as if he had been to the bottom on the sea and back, as if he had laughed in the face of Davy Jones – and won. His clothes, soaked through and plastered to his body, were a second skin. Exhaustion pinched his features. His hair curtained his eyes, torn loose from his queue, but he was either too exhausted to notice or too exhausted to care. His left hand randomly reached out, looking for something to brace his weight against. As his body followed his hand, Captain Norrington wobbled as his steps faltered. It was as if the act of standing was now too much for him to bear.

"Captain! Are you alright?" Julia wavered between rushing forward to support the captain, who looked as if he would collapse under the pressure of his own weight, or if she should stay rooted in the corner. She wet her lips, unsure of what to say or do. Wringing the fabric of her skirt in her balled-up fists, Julia opted to wait and see how the conversation progressed.

The question paused his swaying and brought Norrington out of his trance-like state. Her words, low and husky, were like a soft caress against his cheek. He lurched forward into the room, oblivious to the door gaping open behind him. Norrington laughed, the sound devoid of all humor. Realizing that she expected an answer, he slowly nodded his head. "Yes." His voice was soft, barely audible. He sounded worn down. "Thank you."

His words were hardly convincing, but Julia chose to ignore the tone of his voice for the moment. She ventured a step forward, her step hesitant. As tense as a rabbit in the path of a hungry eagle, Julia was ready to dart around the captain and make her way to her cabin if need be. "And the men?"

A corner of his mouth quirked up in the pathetic attempt of a smile, but the effort was more than he was able to exert. His smile came out more of a grimace, which Norrington tried to wipe from his lips as he drug his hand across his face, forcing back the exhaustion. _So cold. I feel as if I shall never get warm again._ His feet barely left the floor as Norrington staggered over to a chair, collapsing into the wooden cathedra, grateful it supported his weight.

"Your concern is… much appreciated. It was they who saved your life. If not for them…" His face was buried in his hands, as if the act of holding his head upright was too much exertion. His words were muffled, but heartfelt. "Thank you for asking. The men are all fine. No one was lost and no one was hurt badly."

Julia nodded her head, unsure if she should retreat out of the room or continue her inquiry. The captain needed to get out of his wet clothes – lest he fall ill – but it was a suggestion Julia was unwilling to propose. However, the more time passed, the less likely Captain Norrington would want to vacate his seat. Julia knew she really should say something, but such conversation was highly inappropriate. Despite Captain Norrington's judgment of her.

The silence became deafening, but Julia was unwilling to leave the captain until he was out of his chair, heading towards his chambers. Rubbing her fingers along the beads of her rosary, Julia whispered, almost to herself, "Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once."

Norrington chuckled quietly, almost to himself, finding Missus Ramage's incessant quoting of Shakespeare mildly amusing. Especially after such an eventful evening. But her quote from _Julius Caesar_, while trite, was never more accurate then of the men under his command. Knowing he was truly blessed to have such a fearless crew, Norrington would have mourned the loss of any of his men with every fiber of his being but would have been proud of the fight they had put up.

The sea had boiled, heaving upward towards the sky, then plummeting downward as if being sucked into the very depths of Hell. Wave after wave, each more powerful than the last, rose thirty, forty feet into the air, then came crashing down on the _Amphitrite's_ deck. Long, white, clawing fingers of foam sought victims to grasp and pull into the churning black water. Although there were several close calls, the ocean claimed no crewmen, although the howling wind did tear loose a handful of the sails, which several members of the crew were frantically trying to lower, causing several moments of near panic. But not one man gave in to his fear and abandoned their task, thus everyone would be setting foot on dry land when they docked in Charles Towne.

Norrington chuckled again, this time much louder, the sound startling Julia – which tickled him even more. "I should let you get to bed, Missus Ramage."

Her cheeks colored at the mention of her berth and she held her breath. It took her a moment to realize that he was not speaking inappropriately with her, but was dismissing her so he could retire for some much deserved sleep. Julia silently nodded her head and made to move past his chair, but stopped in the doorway.

"What about the ship?" Her words were quiet, soft against his ear.

_Ah, her true concern finally voiced!_ A short laugh barked past his lips. She cared not for any of the crew, only whether the vessel was still seaworthy. In his anger, he quickly stood; gladdened that Missus Ramage recoiled at the sudden movement.

But in rising so quickly, a wooziness suddenly descended upon him and Captain Norrington unceremoniously found himself back in his chair again, his tailbone smarting from the impact. Quicker than he could blink, Missus Ramage was kneeling at his side. Concern marred her features and her hands were coiled into fists, itching to help in some way but tempered by possible retribution.

"Captain?"

The single word she uttered, his title, carried as much concern and distress as he had ever heard in his life. _Certainly Elizabeth Swann would never emote such emotion towards anything regarding you or yours._ Realizing that he was mistaken in thinking her questions were self-serving, Captain Norrington ignored Missus Ramage's last question and answered her one prior.

"Save for a bit of water taken on board, she is fine. Some of the men are manning pumps, which will take care of that, and by dawn's light, the ol' girl will be better than ever. It was a tough battle, but my men were victorious. They were not about to let this ol' girl down. Thirty foot waves be damned." He allowed himself to scan her face; her features awash in kindness were suddenly tattooed in his memory. He felt utter shame in his mental accusations just moments earlier. He felt utter shame in all the accusations, mental and verbal, he had previously charged her with.

Then he noticed the crimson tint in the whites of her eyes. "Your eyes. You were crying." His words, softly spoken, caused new tears to well up, glistening along her eyelashes unshed.

She ducked her head away and pushed herself upright. This would never do. _Never mind the fact that the captain is reaching out to you. He is exhausted and about to fall ill. And in dire need of someone to comfort him. But do not let it be you._ "No, 'tis the seawater that caused them to redden."

The tone of her voice made Captain Norrington realize that he was correct in his statement, but that it was not a topic of conversation she wished to continue. Missus Ramage stood beside him, looking ready to bolt, but yet she tarried. He was curious as to her reasons for lingering, especially after the malice he had shown her the night before, but was grateful for the company. No matter how strained the conversation. If she stood, then he must also. He struggled to push himself upright, waving off Missus Ramage's attempts to assist.

Noticing how his teeth were beginning to chatter and how his wet clothes draped from his frame, Julia stood and made to move past him. As she gathered her skirts, Norrington reached out and grabbed Julia's elbow, stilling her. "If I might request…" His voice faltered. Norrington swallowed hard, hating the vulnerability he felt. But he pressed on. "Might I request your company for a drink to warm us both before you go back to your cabin?"

He was close. Too close. His breath was warm across her cheek, her neck. Despite the cold of the water causing him to shiver, Julia could feel the heat radiating from his person, rolling off his skin, grazing her arm. Julia fought the impulse to wrench her elbow free and flee back to her cabin. She fought the impulse to turn and find out what his lips felt like against hers, not caring that to do so would solidify her status as wanton. Suddenly she did not trust her instincts – and had no idea as to Captain Norrington's intentions.

"I… I should let you get some sleep. Nothing like a warm blanket to cure what ails you. And a good night's sleep." Julia blushed at the indirect reference she made at his wet clothes. "Thank you again for use of your quarters. I will see you in–."

"Please." The word rushed past his lips in a harsh punctuation. The anguish in his voice pulled at Julia's heartstrings. When Julia looked down at the hand still clasped around her arm, Norrington followed her gaze, then let go and dropped his arm to his side. He tried another tactic. "I am exhausted, but sleep will not come anytime soon. And… I would love the company. Besides, I would like to try to make amends. I have been anything but kind to you of late."

Suddenly, Julia found it difficult to breathe. The good captain was extending the figurative olive branch, so she would be remiss to deny the offer. But was he thinking of a more horizontal conversation? _To say no may be the ruin of an attempted friendship and to say yes may be the ruin of my already tattered reputation. _Pursing her lips, she contemplated the situation and after a deafening silence, Julia silently nodded her acquiesce, slowly expelling the breath she did not know that she had been holding in. She felt so fragile that drawing a full breath might shatter her into a million pieces.

He nodded his head, a grin slowly forming on his lips. "Then give me but a moment to change. These wet clothes wear me more than I wear them. I shall be right back. Please, have a seat. Make yourself as comfortable in these uncomfortable surroundings as you can." Pivoting on his heel, Captain Norrington went and closed the door leading to the deck, then retreated out of the room and closed the door to his private chamber behind him.

Not really sure of the protocol of sharing a drink in the quarters of a ship's captain, Julia sank into the seat the captain had recently abandoned. Propping her elbows in the table, she looked at the rosary still clasped in her hand. Rotating the crucifix between her fingers, her fingers sliding along the metal cross, Julia contemplated the course of events over the past several days.

_I am in the private quarters of an unmarried man. A very handsome, unmarried man. An unmarried man whom is undressing in the other room. The same man who despised me on sight is now asking me to share a libation with him. I have no idea how I ended up here. None whatsoever. Why… why am I unable to grasp these changes in events? What happened that caused his hatred to turn to… should I even call it friendship? My head hurts. I should never have gone to the Caribbean in the first place. But…_

The rosary bounced against the wooden tabletop when Julia was startled out of her reverie. Captain Norrington cleared his throat as he reentered the room. Julia swiveled in her seat. His lanky frame draped against the doorframe of his private quarters. Julia clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp and turned her head in embarrassment, her cheeks burning.


	10. Chapter 10

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

**A/N**: Another rapid-fire update, but only because I forgot one very important thing in the last chapter – a very big thank you to you all. You all rock and every review makes my heart sing. Since I forgot to include such sentiments in the last chapter, here it is.

The man Julia turned away from wore a white shirt, unbuttoned, that revealed a lightly furred abdomen and chest. Faded cotton trousers rode low and hugged narrow hips. His wet hair was long and loose, flowing across a towel that was casually draped across his shoulders. Arms were folded across his chest. A look of curiosity washed over his features, an unasked question wanting to skate past his lips.

Hating herself for swallowing hard in apprehension, and grudging admiration, Julia quickly stood and backed up two steps in the direction of the door that would give her access to the main deck. Her heart accelerated in fear that she gave the captain the wrong impression. The only other man she had ever seen bare-chested was her husband. The room was becoming unbearably small. She had not even seen her husband…

_Never mind that._

But in an instant, Norrington was crossing the room and buttoning his shirt. Covering the faded battle wounds that stippled the front of his torso and – presumably – the back, Norrington smoothed the fabric across his chest. A hand started to tuck the shirt into his pants, but stopped, as if the captain suddenly remembered who the present company was in the room. Halting before a small cabinet, he threw a look at Julia over his shoulder. "And what will the lady be drinking this evening?"

Chuckling nervously, Julia slowly made her way to the captain's side, not at all sure if she should. _He called me a lady. That is promising._ Shaking her head in the negative, she replied, "I know so little of spirits, save a shot of sherry in my coffee to fight off a fever. Or a glass of wine with a meal. What do you recommend to take away the chill? I am at your mercy."

His lips curved in a bemused grin.

"I need more than a shot of sherry to warm these bones. Scotch, good scotch, will put some heat in your veins… as well as your head. New to the beverage?" His eyes practically glowed with mirth at the idea of introducing the beverage to Julia's palate. Although if he thought about it, much time had passed since Norrington last consumed the whiskey himself. _A damn shame, if I do say so myself._ Recently, his drink of choice had been rum, in various forms of concentration. In fact, the last time had consumed good rum – not the watered down version some bars in Tortuga succeeded in passing off – was when he was inadvertently in amalgamation with Captain Jack Sparrow, a man Norrington refused to acknowledge, even mentally.

Feeling her cheeks darken once again, she ducked her head, looking at him through thick lashes before replying, "Nay. I know my father would retire to the library after supper for a glass in the evening, but I never once had a taste. So I do not think it would be wise if I consumed much of it, never having sipped it before. Just a… just a swallow, if you will." It dawned on Julia that the feeling of shame washing over her made her feel as if she were again twelve years old, her fingers into something a lady should not touch.

Squatting down before the bureau, Captain Norrington opened the doors and then rested his wrists against the cabinet top, his weight balanced in the balls of his feet, contemplating the alcohol before him. The idea of plying the lapsed missus with alcohol she was unaccustomed to drinking was appealing to say the least, but that was not why Norrington asked her to join him for a drink. Although, if prodded, he was unsure if he could explain the reason why he asked her to stay.

Thrusting a bottle of scotch into her hands, Captain Norrington grabbed two glasses and quickly stood. Usually it was grog or other such rotgut to take the edge off a lonely night with the good stuff saved for heavy negotiations or celebrations. Well, he felt like celebrating, if one could call it that, for some reason.

Maybe 'tis the fact that the men and the ship came out of the storm with minimal injuries. That a million years ago, I captained a vessel that was not so lucky. So I shall drink to their memory and toast the luck of my men tonight, knowing they could have been awarded a different fate. And appreciate the fact that I have a beautiful woman in my quarters.

Marching over to the table with much more bravado then he felt, Norrington was barely able to suppress a smile when Missus Ramage followed slowly behind, her steps unsure. Taking the bottle from her without comment, he poured his guest two fingers of rum before handing her a glass, then poured himself several fingers before being satisfied that a slow burn would warm his stomach.

Clinking his glass against hers, Captain Norrington curved his lips into a lopsided smile. "Bottoms up," he said before downing the contents of his goblet. He watched, over the rim of his glass, as Missus Ramage at first sampled the beverage and then, after doing her best to squelch a reaction to the taste, mimicking the captain's downing of the clear liquid. Her throat burned and her insides felt like they were on fire. Looking at the inside of the empty glass, Julia understood the captain's choice of libations to warm his bones, but did not understand the appeal of the beverage's harsh taste.

"Ready for a refill?" His words were low and quiet, nearly as intoxicating as the beverage itself. Like a finger along the length of her spine, the timbre of his voice caused her to feel chills. Shuddering slightly, Julia rubbed at goose bumps that rose along her arms. Unable to look at the captain, lest he mock her reaction to his words, Julia shook her head.

Whipping the towel off his shoulders and setting it on the table, Captain Norrington plopped himself into a chair and poured himself another drink. After stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles, he motioned for Julia to sit, taking her glass out of her hand and refilling her goblet. At her protest, he replied, "I do not like to drink alone. I like drinking alone even less with an audience. I promise that I will not let you get so drunk that you fall ill. But can you disagree that after the course of events from this afternoon, this is a nice change of pace?"

Sinking into the chair, knowing that she was beaten, Julia silently accepted the refilled glass. Knowing that she should accept his hospitality for as long as it stayed just that – hospitality. Once it turned the corner and became more than precarious companionship, Julia was willing to pull the knife she had tucked into the waist of her skirts. She was not so naïve that she had never been the recipient of the drunken advances of a man.

"'Tis… pleasant, thank you. But my… I feel… My stomach… is a little delicate." Despite trying to utilize decorum, Julia could tell it was slipping past the captain without his comprehension. "I was ill earlier, so please forgive my constraint. I am just beginning to feel myself." Julia was unable to finish her thought, her cheeks scarlet in humiliation. _I cannot believe I admitted that!_

Taking pity on his passenger, Norrington smiled ruefully. He wanted to take her hand in his and soothe away her embarrassment, but such actions would be improper and startled him in their appearance. "Even the most sea-worthy of men do not have completely iron constitutions. I was ill earlier myself. There is no harm in such. To experience such a storm and keep your stomach is impossible. Consider all of it an initiation, an initiation that puts you into an exclusive club."

Julia wet her lips, her pink tongue in stark contrast with her pale skin, barely nodding her head. She was unable to express her gratitude for the captain's admission and kind words. Taking several deep breaths in order to attempt a thank you, Julia was unaware at how intently Captain Norrington was watching her chest rise and fall. So when he spoke again, Julia was momentarily startled.

"I was very rude to you last night."

Startled, Julia looked up from the drink she held in both hands. Clear green eyes, unmarred by the effects of the alcohol, locked onto her blue orbs. Well, this was unexpected. She had barely slept after retiring back to her cabin, the accusations the captain lobbed at her still rattling around in her brain. But after he came to her rescue, she was even more confused. Without breaking his gaze, Julia set the glass on the table, and then leaned back in her seat, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Yes. You were." Julia had to wonder if the admission was going to segue into questions about Mister Cobb being in her quarters. She had heard that the captain had invoked the right to flog the former first mate for his indiscretions, who took five lashes as punishment for violating their passenger. Julia was sick over the idea of the crew drawing blood on one of their own, but she was thrilled beyond words at such immediate and emphatic action. But it did cause her to now see the captain in a new light. Julia just was unsure if it was an improvement or not.

He nodded his head, as if agreeing the movement of a chess opponent. Mimicking her movements, he set his empty glass on the table also, the settled against his seatback. Crossing his arms across his chest, he quirked an eyebrow up in amusement. Other women would cower in the same circumstance. Missus Ramage was proving yet again to be anything but ordinary.

"I apologize."

Her eyes narrowed. This, Julia was expecting after his last comment. But she was unsure as to what precipitated this turn of the conversation. The only possibility Julia could come up with was the captain witnessing her fighting off the advances of one of his crew. If both if the captain and the first mate only knew that if Mister Cobb had been a little less oily and a little more courteous, it would have been difficult to not be flattered by the handsome man's attention. But that thinking lived in an alternative history. Right now, Julia felt she was eking out a fragile truce with the captain because of her temerity with the former first mate. "Why?"

The simple question, spoken low and quiet, startled Norrington. Expecting an acceptance of his apology, he sat silent a moment, then burst into laughter. The anger washing over Julia's features at his reaction delighted him even further, but Norrington did his best to still his mirth by downing a swallow of scotch.

"I am so sorry, but I was not expecting such… brutal curiosity," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. Seeing that she was still not amused, Norrington leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table with his hands clasped. The humor suddenly erased from his visage, Norrington replied, "Fair enough. You have done nothing wrong to either my men or myself. I should have no quarrel with you, and yet I find it impossible to give you reprieve from the hostility you do not deserve."

His words stung, despite the admission of his guilt in wrongfully condemning her. Staring at the translucent liquid in the glass before her, Julia debated whether she should walk out of the room or try to hammer out a peace treaty. If that was in fact what the captain was offering. There had been some moments of genuine joy over the past few days, as well as abject humiliation. Maybe it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. The voyage was nearly complete; if the captain wanted to remain conflicted in his disaccord, Julia knew she could last a few more days.

"A fact that I have not failed to notice." There was no use in lying. Her words were spoken with a hint of sadness rather than bitterness. Unsure of how to handle herself, Julia broke his gaze and tilted her head back, staring at the whitewashed ceiling. If only she could think of a plausible excuse to remove herself from the room. The room, which was becoming insufferably too small as the moments rolled on. She wet her lips, struggling to think of how to parry his next words. Struggling to think of what his next words might be.

Norrington pressed his lips together so that a white lined formed. It would seem that the proverbial genie was out of the bottle. Hating himself for skewering her reputation by his own unmitigated accusations, Norrington wanted another drink of liquid courage to bolster his attempts at correcting the damage he inflicted. Instead, he found himself staring at the base of her throat, watching the pulse beat in time with her racing heart. Rubbing his hand across his face, he smiled grimly. There was no way out of this without struggling through the rest of the conversation. With a huge sigh, he plunged into his explanation. "Missus Ramage, I–."

"Captain," Julia interrupted. Norrington was taken aback at the interruption, his brows knitting into a frown, but found himself unable to regain control of the conversation as Julia continued. "I am not really sure if I want to be privy to the reason for your animosity. I mean not to be rude – just honest. Obviously, I either remind you of a whore you have been with before or another female has hurt you badly. In case you need reminding, I am neither woman, although I could horsewhip that person – or persons – for ruining you against the female half of the population. For you seem to be a fair and just man otherwise.

"I thank you for the use of your quarters during the storm; your kindness for that, I cannot begin to quantify. I thank you for the scotch. I thank you for letting me book passage on your ship. But I will not thank you for explaining the reasons you do not like me. Now, I think I shall retire. Good evening." Julia stood, making a grand ceremony of pushing in her chair, then picking up her glass and quickly downing the liquor.

Pushing himself back from the table, Norrington also stood, his bulk blocking her path to the door. "I am not finished speaking, so please do not depart just yet." As Julia's lips curved into an outraged protest, he continued. "Now, I know you are confused. And angry. And I begrudge you none of that. But understand that I know you have done everything you can to overlook, or rise above, my displeasure. And yes, my – how did you call it – animosity is misdirected. I thank you for your company this evening. And honesty. You have been nothing but forthright with me since the moment we met. Please understand that I know that I have been most disrespectful. And that it has been unwarranted. I know this. And I know that I have been unfair."

The man before did not look earnest, as others might in seeking forgiveness. Rather, he looked expectant, but relaxed. Stubble peppered his jaw line. Dark, wavy hair curtained his cheekbones. Green eyes glowed in interest. An eyebrow rose in curiosity.

_Yes! You have been more than unfair! All I want is to get home. Back to my life and everything that I hold dear. And, instead, all I get is more and more…_

_Confused._

Stunned that the word popped into her head, Julia suddenly found it difficult to breath. As if all air had dissipated from the room, she found herself unable to catch her breath. The walls started to rotate and the floors began to pitch. But a quick glance out the window told her that despite the black velvet of the sky, the skies were pristine. Pushing past the captain, Julia reached the cabin door and thrust it open, taking in huge gulping breaths of fresh air.

Once her head stopped spinning, Julia turned and faced the captain, hugging the doorframe. "I accept your apology. Now, please forgive me for taking advantage of your hospitality, and spirits, but I fear I have no head for alcohol and must retire to my cabin. I bid you good night." She hesitated, then added, "You… Captain… I feel that I have not been completely forthright with you. I… I did not mention my… marital status upon acquisition of passage not because I was ashamed of anything. Rather, I did not know how to explain my situation. You should know that… My… my husband is dead. Killed – murdered – by pirates that descended upon the merchant ship where he was doctoring. A little less than a year ago. I–." Her voice faltered. Swallowing hard, she spun on her heel and escaped back to her cabin.

Confused, Norrington's lips curved into a tight smile as he glided over to the open door, watching Missus Ramage's retreating back. Still unsure if his apology would change their dynamic, he found the admission of her husband's death highly surprising indeed.

Obviously, there was a reason she told him. Not so obviously was the reason why.

Closing the door, Norrington pulled his shirt off as he made his way to his bed. Slumber would have to take precedence over the enigma that Missus Ramage had just handed him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my original characters.

Dawn had not yet broken when Norrington went above deck. Fog caressed the ship, blanketing the vessel in a gray mist that made him think of London mornings. Seagulls screeched overhead, fighting each other as they waited for fish to appear at the ocean surface. Obviously, the ship was skimming the coastline. Sleep was not forthcoming as he replayed his encounters with Missus Ramage over the past few days, but especially last evening. After several hours of pondering what caused him to feel such animosity towards Missus Ramage, Norrington came to the realization that it was her streak of fearlessness. It reminded him too much of another woman he had known – many years ago.

Elizabeth Swann.

The spoiled only daughter of the governor of Jamaica, Elizabeth caught his eye with her unsurpassed beauty and his heart with her fiery independence. The same spark that reduced him to a stammering schoolboy in her presence also caused his heart to harden against her. Wanting too much, taking too much, without thought or care of the consequences, Elizabeth sailed through life without heed to the responsibility of her actions. Others always picked up the pieces that fell in her wake.

_I could have been one of those fools._

Norrington sighed, realizing that there was no truth in that; Elizabeth Swann never had any intention in tethering herself to a naval commodore. She had her cap set for the blacksmith's apprentice for as long as Norrington could remember.

_And look how things ended up… Me in service as a goods trader and privateer and the two of them doing God knows what. Funny how life never goes according to plan. No matter how hard you try to strong-arm it into submission. But thanks be to God that it was Will Turner who ended up saddled with her and her hedonistic ways._

Norrington stopped his tour of the deck and leaned against the railing, his eyes scanning a horizon blurred by haze. From time to time, he liked to rise before his crew of men and take a visual inventory of his ship. Not that he did not have complete trust in his men, but with the day-to-day activities keeping him occupied sometimes it was easier to take notice of the running of the ship when no one was around. Although he picked a perfectly dreadful day in doing so, as the gray tendrils of fog virtually obscured anything more than three feet before him.

Sighing, his thoughts turned back to Missus Ramage, against his better judgment. As it was, Norrington knew he spent entirely too much time contemplating his rapport with his passenger. Or lack thereof. If asked, Norrington would be unable to explain his animosity towards his fare. Not that it truly mattered – in a few days they would part ways and never see one another again. But he did have a feeling about her. One that left him very unsettled.

That if he did not keep her at arm's length – or further – she would be the end of him.

His gut feeling for matters had all but abandoned him in the past several years. Norrington either worked on sudden impulse or a series of opportunities presented themselves to him. But there was a time when an internal voice guided him through all his decisions, helping him set the course for his life. An internal voice that Norrington thought had abandoned him a long time ago.

But after too many years to recount, his gut feeling was back. And it was now telling him to run, not walk, as far away from Missus Ramage as possible.

Pushing himself away from the railing, Norrington continued his stroll. The fog was started to burn off as the sun began to glimmer on the horizon. Soon, the deck would be abuzz with activity as his men began to wake. From the little he was able to ascertain through the mist, all was in proper order, his men surpassing the standards by which Norrington himself lived by. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Not a coil of rope or crate of supplies was out of place.

Considering the complete hell the crew went through the night before, everything looked pristine. _Absolutely incredible those men are._

Ahead, barely perceptible in the haze, Norrington was barely able to identify a figure sitting at the bow of the ship. Checking his pocket watch, he was confused. The only men on watch were his boatswain, Mister Greene, and little Matthew Wright, who was keeping watch up in the crow's nest. Norrington picked up his pace, wanting to bid a good morning to his fellow early riser.

Before him was Missus Ramage, clad in a dove gray gown – looking ethereal in the glimmering mist. Her hair was unbound. And dripping wet. And caressing her cheeks and neck. And causing parts of her dress to become transparent as water dampened the fabric. Her back was turned to him, so Norrington was unable to tell how strategically placed the damps spots were on the fabric but the sudden thought left him blushing furiously. Julia was rhythmically pulling a brush through her tresses, as if completely unaware that she had an audience. Norrington closed his mouth as soon as he realized that it was slack in awe.

His blood thrummed in his ears; the sound was deafening. Norrington had to turn away and shake his head to clear the noise pounding in his brain. He then remembered the only advice his old man ever gave him on women, and of all things, it was from Shakespeare. "Women speak two languages – one of which is verbal."

_You have to nip this in the bud, old man. You are not in the least bit smitten with her. It is just because you have not been with a woman in so long that you are reacting like this. Now get yourself under control! _

Staring at her back, just a few feet behind his passenger, Norrington attempted to keep his voice light and neutral. "I see that you have made yourself quite at home." His voice sounded strange. Almost disembodied, as if it belonged to someone else. So much for maintaining composure.

Julia had heard the footfalls of his steps long before Captain Norrington made his presence known. But until he decided to announce himself, Julia was not about to turn and acknowledge the captain. She had escaped the chamber of her room to seek the solitude of the sea to clear her thoughts, which had been bombarding her all night long. However, since Captain Norrington made a comment, Julia was obligated to acknowledge his presence. So she pivoted on her makeshift seat to look her companion in the eye, only to notice that one brow was lifted in question. Believing his statement was not in need of a reply, Julia just stared at him, continuing to comb tangles out of her locks.

_I thought we had laid our disagreements to rest last night. Could it be that she is still angry?_

He tried another tactic, hoping to make Julia smile. Anything to change the look on her face. "I must admit that you startled me, sitting there. For a moment I thought a mermaid had climbed aboard and ensconced herself at the helm of the ship. The only thing missing is your tail, but that may be hidden beneath your skirt." As soon as he mentioned what may lie under Missus Ramage's clothing, his cheeks colored crimson. But instead of trying to correct his mistake, he opted to keep his mouth quiet, lest he continue to blunder.

Julia did indeed smile, ruefully, and then ducked her head so that she was staring at the stilled brush in her hands. It was obvious that he still had not elevated her standing from whore to respected widow if he was going to talk about her person in such a way. Or, Julia supposed, he was attempting to be teasing with her and he was a poor participant. The thought caused Julia to feel shy around the captain, the conversation from last night still fresh in her mind, so Julia instead tried to change the subject. Her tutor's mermaid tales came back to her.

"Is Alexander the king alive?"

The heat faded from his cheeks. Captain Norrington's eyes glowed in amusement. It had been many years since he had heard the tale of Alexander the Great's half-sister Thessalonica who, in death, became a mermaid and lived in the Aegean Sea. When Thessalonica encountered sailors, she had only one question – how was the welfare of Alexander.

Furrowing his brow, Captain Norrington struggled to think of the proper reply. After the passage of several moments, the response sprung forth from the crevices of his childhood mind. "He lives and still rules." He paused, the look of triumph on his features melting into mirth. "Please though, in your anger at me, do not turn into a Gorgon. I will… I will try to treat you better. Be more respectful." His voice faltered, much to his vexation. So much for keeping emotion out of his voice.

Julia sucked in her breath. He was again extending the proverbial olive branch, but she was still wary. After lying in her bed upon departure from his cabin, sleep proved elusive. So Julia rose, thinking that she would try to calm her nerves by bathing. After collecting seawater in a pail, Julia rinsed her skin, and then proceeded to wash her tresses. Realizing her cabin did not give her enough room to maneuver as she brushed out her locks, Julia dressed and went above deck. After settling in to watch the vessel plow through the mist, Captain Norrington appeared like a mirage in the desert of fog. Julia wet her lips as she formulated a response.

Sighing quietly, Julia shifted so that she could better look at the captain and said, "While I know I look a fright, I promise not to turn into anything resembling Medusa." Her lips curved into a smile. "Just as long as you promise not to give me reason to need to do so," she added, a twinkle in her eye. "Fair enough?" Julia was thrilled that the tone of her voice was playful rather than spiteful. The dance the two of them were attempting was unknown to her, but she was doing her best to master the intricate steps. So far, both of their toes remained unscathed.

An eyebrow quirked up in response. Norrington then folded his arms across his chest, his weight resting on his left hip as he leaned against the railing. The salt in the water caused her hair to curl fetchingly, although the fog was not allowing the locks to dry so they remained dark, giving Missus Ramage a decided exotic look. It would not be any stretch of the imagination to see Missus Ramage as some sort of fey creature.

_Stop acting like you are under some sort of spell she has cast._

Inspiration suddenly stuck Norrington. "While I certainly was not expecting company so early in the morning, my happening upon you was quite fortuitous, indeed. I meant what I said last night. I know the hostility began on my end, but I would like if we were able to enter into a truce of sorts."

Julia considered the captain with a skeptical eye. She found being the target of animosity extremely taxing and would love to put their enmity to bed. But only figuratively. Julia sighed, not caring how unladylike she appeared, her fingers dancing across the brush bristles. This new side of the captain, while certainly preferable, was still unexpected. Not trusting herself to trust Captain Norrington, Julia wavered as she contemplated his offer.

_Maybe I should still expect the worst, but hope for the best._

The smile not quite reaching her eyes, Julia bestowed the captain with a dazzling grin. "I would like that. Greatly. Do you… do you have anything… in mind?" Julia was almost tired of the captain talking about the end of his hostility because he was doing little to back up his words; she wanted to know what he was going to do to correct his past mistakes.

The captain looked as if he was going to stagger from the great weight that had lifted from his shoulders. Relief washed over his features and a sigh shuddered through his body. His hands rose up to his hair, smoothing back imaginary loose strands. Norrington was unable to articulate to even himself why her complying meant so much to him, but he knew their verbal sparring was taking its toll on them both. If both were willing to meet halfway, then Norrington presumed the tension between the two of them would dissipate, like the morning fog.

"Good, good. And I certainly do have something in mind – for I was wondering if you would like to dine in my quarters this evening."

Her hairbrush clattered as it hit the wooden boards of the deck below her feet.


	12. Chapter 12

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

"So. When did you leave England?"

The question momentarily blindsided Julia. She lowered her fork to her plate, metal clinking against metal, and locked eyes with the captain. There was no accusation in his expression, just interest. Knowing it was unladylike, but not caring, Julia bit her bottom lip as she considered her answer. Just how much did he know, if anything? And just how much was she willing to reveal?

"I have not thought of England for many years," she lied, suddenly feeling extremely homesick. "You make me… remember a life that I… left behind so many years ago. I… I left Cheshire twelve years ago. My family had arranged a marriage for me to a doctor in London and soon after the wedding, we set sail for Charles Towne so that my husband might… expand his practice." _And get away from my reputation._ Julia stopped, wondering if she should continue with her explanation.

Julia looked away from the captain, her eyes sweeping the room around her. The previous afternoon, she had huddled in the corner, praying the rosary, waiting for the pitching room to quiet. Now, Julia was finally able to get a good look at her surroundings. Whitewashed walls tacked with maps surrounded her and windows revealed waves kicked up in the wake of the ship.

But the captain was looking at her expectantly, his green eyes sparkling with curiosity. He wanted her to explain further, to continue with her story. Inventory of her environs would have to wait. Plastering a blinding smile on her face she continued. "I was young when I married – seventeen – and not yet comfortable with my husband when he told me that we were leaving the country. I asked nothing, but I did as he bid and several months later we were in America. I have never been back since leaving Mother England's shores." _Not even to see my only sister married or to see the burial of my parents._

Captain Norrington took a sip of wine, contemplating his dinner guest. Sadness tightened the corners of her mouth and pulled at the corners of her eyes. There was more to the story than what Missus Ramage was telling. But it was her story to tell, so he would respect her boundaries. Norrington scratched an imaginary itch on his forehead, stalling for a proper response.

"I meant to tell you that I was sorry for your loss. You… it… seemed to burst out of you and then you… whirled away. I… I hope he left you in a… comfortable position." The words were not coming out right. The glass of wine looked at him beckoningly, daring him to down the liquor. "That came out very tactless. I just mean, if you have to suffer an unfathomable loss, I hope that you were able to focus on your grief and not other distractions. Now please, stop me before I stumble over my words any more. All these years at sea have caused me to forget how to string proper words together."

He looked so uncomfortable that Julia took pity on him and smiled. "I only told you because, at the time, I suppose I thought it a good idea. Now, I feel very foolish. But these waters and the thought of pirates… I… I just got to thinking of my poor husband and the death he suffered at the hands of such vile men. I cannot imagine it was either swift or painless. I found out last April, but I still wake up thinking I will see him beside me. Still see him come home for dinner after making his rounds doctoring. Truth be known, the mere thought of pirates makes me ill. I hope they all rot in Hell. Every single one of them. The only good pirate is a dead pirate!"

Norrington blanched and turned his head away, hoping that Missus Ramage failed to notice the color draining from his face. He rubbed his jaw in an attempt to look contemplative, but he was frantically trying to revive the color in his cheeks and cover the look of fear in his eyes. _There is no way she could know. There is no way. How on earth could she learn such a fact?_ Relief flowed through his veins when Missus Ramage changed the subject.

"I wish to thank you, lest I forget later, for dinner this evening. The invitation was… unexpected, but much appreciated. I just wish there was some way I could extend such kindness. Maybe… maybe when we land at Charles Towne, you might like to dine at my home?" Julia quickly picked up her drinking goblet and took a quick gulp of wine, unsure of where the offer came from. "But, only if you want to," she quickly amended.

The heartfelt concern in her voice made Norrington smile ruefully. Turning back to his guest, his voice warm and genuine, the captain replied, "I would like that. In fact, I would like that very much. A home-cooked meal after many months at sea is certainly not going to be turned away. Especially if the company is as pleasant as yours. Now it is my turn to thank you. I… I have judged you incorrectly."

Knowing her cheeks were pink in embarrassment, Julia dropped her gaze down to her plate again and speared a forkful of fish. Chewing, she stared at her plate, overwhelmed by disbelief at her own boldness. Inviting a man to her house – what would her mother think! _She sent you away, remember? You embarrassed the family and so they married you off to a man who would put up with your previous indiscretion. Having a man over for dinner pales in comparison to what you have done in the past._

But why the about-face in his treatment of her from the captain?

When she closed her eyes, Julia was back on the ship's main deck that morning. Leaning forward as she retrieved her fallen hairbrush, Captain Norrington had said, "Then I will see you at eight this evening," before retreating to his rooms. She had stared after him for many long minutes, bent forward with her hairbrush held just inches from the deck boards, as if uncomprehending. Even now, Julia wanted to ask why she was taking her meal in the captain's quarters, but she figured that such questions would be answered in good time.

It had been a long day leading up to the dinner; time seemed to run backwards. Julia had sat on deck for nearly an hour afterwards, rhythmically brushing her hair in automated strokes, digesting the turn of events of the past several days. And when she got tired of that, Julia went further back in time and contemplated the past several weeks. After such mental exercises, Julia found herself exhausted, so she collected herself and went about finding some breakfast in the galley, with the hopes of finding some oatmeal or the like that was weevil-free. However, as the days went by, more and more bugs appeared in the dry foodstuff, so Julia was expecting the worst.

After collecting her viands, with only a few weevils to sift out, Julia ensconced herself in her berth, pulling out her book and pretending to read. But after realizing she had not turned the page for over an hour, Julia tossed the book on the floor and opted to wile away the hours with a nap. Short of prowling around up on the main deck, there were no other options for Julia to consider. Besides, despite hearing that the first mate had received retribution for his actions, Julia had not seen him since their altercation and she had no idea if Mister Cobb was planning vengeance. He may be out of sight, but he was certainly not out of mind. Her time above deck had Julia armed with three knives on her person.

Julia woke up several hours later, surprised that she had slept for as long as she had, but grateful that she was more rested – and that several hours had passed. After a horrible night's sleep, Julia felt refreshed and more energetic. Which then translated into a bad case of nerves.

Limited to one dress that would be appropriate for a formal dinner, Julia had laid it on the bed and mentally ripped it apart and put it back together several times over before finally donning the garment. After adjusting and readjusting the dress for the best part of a quarter hour, Julia sighed in resignation that there was little else she could do to make the dress more presentable. She had sold the jewelry that should be paired with the accoutrement so as to book passage with the ship; there was nothing she could do about the lack of adornment across her décolleté. Placing her hand across her throat, Julia told herself that she was not as exposed as she felt.

Her hands trembled as she took handfuls of hair and began to artfully arrange the tresses on top of her head. Taking in deep, calming breaths, Julia began to let her mind wander to the evening ahead.

Why on earth would he want me to share his meal? What happened that caused him to want to change our rapport? I am so confused…

Shaking her head to scatter such thoughts, Julia once again looked at her reflection in the mirror, her hands behind her head as she frantically rearranged her hair. Julia had less than an hour until she was to sup with the captain and her hair was not cooperating. Pursing her lips and furrowing her brows, Julia shook the pins out of her hair yet again and decided to start over for a third time.

At ten of eight, a rap on the door, hesitant, interrupted her last minute corrections to her person. Startled, Julia instinctively went to the door, the complicated hairstyle she had been attempting forgotten as her hands slipped from her tresses and turned the handle. Before her stood little Matthew Wright, looking about as uncomfortable as anyone could ever be.

"The captain asked that I escort you to his quarters," he whispered.

Julia wet her lips in an attempt to hide a smile. The poor boy, probably no more than ten-years-old, refused to make eye contact with her. Instead, he fidgeted with his suspenders and stared at a knothole in a floorboard. In but a few short years, Julia knew that he would be breaking the hearts of girls in whatever town he ended up. In the meantime, it was all Julia could do to keep from hugging the boy and telling him that out of all he could be scared of, she was not one of those things.

"I shall be ready in just a moment. I just need to put my hair up. I shall not take long." At the look of terror crossing his face, Julia paused, then smiled cautiously, showing a dimple. "What is wrong?"

"Noth… Uhm… Nothing. It is just… It… The captain asked that I tell to wear your hair loose. If it would please you," he finished in a rush.

Julia took a step back into her room, not at all sure as to how she should react. This was just dinner, right? She had no intention of behaving as anything other than a lady, so Julia had intended on looking nothing less than elegant. And if her dress was mediocre at best, then she had intended on dressing her hair properly. _I guess that my intentions took a different road than I have on my map._

Plastering a brilliant smile on her lips, Julia nodded her head in agreement. "Certainly. Then I am ready. Lead the way, if you will."

Taking his responsibility seriously, Matthew jutted his elbow out for Julia to place her hand. Letting the boy feel important, Julia made a production of taking a hold of his arm and letting him lead her out of her cabin. The boy even managed to muster the hint of a smile.

They took the steps in tandem and crossed the deck in silence. Evening was upon them as long shadows obscured much of the ship. Instead of distinct images, inky silhouettes of indecipherable figures surrounded them. Julia would never admit to anyone other than herself that, at that moment, she was grateful for the warm body of little Matthew Wright walking next to her.

At the captain's door, the duo halted. Matthew took a deep breath and then knocked on the door with his free hand. Julia held her breath as she waited for the door to open.

"Enter," was the response.

The captain was not going to answer the knock? Julia was mildly surprised.

Turning to face Julia, Matthew bowed at the waist. "I bid you good evening." He hesitated the briefest of moments, a genuine smile appeared upon his lips, but then disappeared just as swiftly. He then scurried back to the stairs and quickly disappeared below deck. Never feeling more vulnerable in her life, Julia took a hold of the handle, then, with a twist of her wrist, opened the door.


	13. Chapter 13

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

The captain was dressed impeccably, much to Julia's relief; she was glad that she went through the angst in getting dressed. Standing by his liquor cabinet, he was selecting a bottle of wine to serve with dinner. He rose to a full standing position when he saw Julia, having been squatting too long in his perusal of his alcohol selection. It was everything he could do to not let out a slow whistle of appreciation. The light from the room tinted her skin with a warm glow, but the shadows from behind accentuated the contours of her carriage, causing Julia to look… radiant. He smiled, wryly, as Julia stood awkwardly in the doorway, taking in the room before her.

The meal was fit for a king – or at least a minor member of the royal family. Rather than oil lanterns illuminating the room, candles were lit, casting the room in a golden splendor. The table they had sat at the night before had been expanded by a leaf or two to accommodate the banquet that had been prepared. A spread of fresh fish, rice, chicken, hard-boiled eggs, soup, and warm bread lay before her.

"Come in. Sit." Captain Norrington's voice was low. Friendly. Seductive.

His words were like silk against her skin, the sensation causing Julia to not only forget how to string a sentence together, but how to formulate a single word. Silently nodding her head, Julia woodenly took the few steps into the room to the table and allowed the captain to seat her, sliding her chair in as she sank into the seat.

"Please, serve yourself. Load up your plate with whatever you wish. I hope the choices are of your satisfaction," Captain Norrington said as he slipped into the chair across from Julia. His smile was warm, but did not quite reach his eyes.

Julia finally found her tongue. "It all looks so delicious. But such bounty should not be lavished on someone as undeserving as myself. I… The men are more deserving – they work so hard and–."

"The men are eating just as well this evening, worry not." This time the smile reflected in his eyes. "I promise you, they are eating as you are, if not better. Or will be. After their hard work during the storm, I had the same thought that you are having now. Their tables below are filled with enough foodstuffs to feed a conquering army. Now, again, eat what you wish. I do not stand on ceremony when it comes to food. I have gone too many times in my life when I did not know when or where my next meal would come from. I eat frugally, so that when I have the opportunity to indulge, I enjoy the meal that much more.

Julia ducked her head as her cheeks heated. His emphasis on the word _indulge_ caused her heart to accelerate in a very unladylike fashion. It was as if he was using food consumption as a metaphor for… _Stop it! Just stop that right now. No impure thoughts. As it is, you do not know if his intentions are truly honorable or not, so it is best if you do not think along the same lines the captain might have already perused. He might mean just as he says. He just might…_

Up until asking about her departure from England, the two had been silent for the better part of half past the hour. Julia felt like a caged bird; the captain took oblivious delight in watching Julia choose and consume her food, but made no effort to engage her in conversation. So Julia chewed methodically, considering what to say next.

Oblivious of the mental interrogation his passenger was giving herself, Norrington leaned back in his chair, rocking the furniture back on two legs. Drumming his fingers along the wooden armrest, the staccato rhythm echoing in the chamber, he quietly asked, "So, if I may ask, what brought you to Jamaica?" His voice dropped low, as if afraid of the answer.

Letting out a long, slow sigh, Julia picked up her fork and maneuvered the fish around on her plate, not caring that playing with one's food was highly improper. As much as she wanted to hide the hurt, to pretend that the journey never happened, Julia knew that she would feel better to finally verbalize what had happened on the island, if only in part. She cupped her chin in her hand, elbow on the table, and smiled tightly.

"It was certainly not for any vocational pursuits," Julia said, the last words spit out almost pointedly. "I suppose you could say the trip was for pleasure, although it ended up being anything but. I traveled to Kingston six weeks ago to assist my sister with the birth of her first child. She had written me, telling me that she was having… difficulties and, if I could, to please come out and help. I had not laid eyes on her since I had married, so of course I was thrilled at the idea of reuniting after so many years.

"So. I… I booked passage for Kingston – and also passage for my return trip back – and expected the happiest of reunions. Instead, I found my sister sick and… diseased. If asked, I would be unable to explain what ailed her, but it terrified me with its ruthlessness and viciousness in wrecking havoc to her poor body. I did my best, for having a doctor as a husband gives one insight that others might lack, but it was of no use. When she went into labor, there was so much blood. I will spare you the details, but long story short, my sister and her daughter did not live more than an hour past the birth. My sister's husband blamed me for her death and, I suppose, in my grief I would feel the same way. He has to lash out at someone, so it might as well be me.

"But because he threw me out of his home, I was suddenly in need of passage back to Charles Towne. I could not wait six more weeks to leave, as I did not have that kind of money, so I sold what I could of my belongings to afford passage back to Charles Towne. And that is where our paths crossed." Julia shrugged her shoulders to cover the sudden intake of breath that hid the attempt of a sob.

But such actions were not lost on Norrington. There was a hardness, a definitiveness, to his voice when he replied, "I have no doubt that you did everything you could to save your sister and your niece. I agree; your brother-in-law has every right to his anger. To lose his family in what should have been the happiest day of his life? I cannot even begin to fathom his grief. But to direct it at you? A woman who tried to save his wife? His child? His family? Then he was certainly out of his mind in heartbreak." As he spoke, Norrington realized his voice rose louder and when he finished, recognized that his last words reflected the own animosity he hurled at Missus Ramage.

_The poor girl! What have I done to her?_

Then it dawned on him – the woman before him was just that, a woman. A woman who had lived. And experienced. And knew who she was. He had been treating Missus Ramage as if she were not a woman, but as if she were a young lass. As if she were a child. As if she followed her heart rather than her head. As if…

_As if she were Elizabeth Swann. _

Interrupting his thoughts, almost as if she could read his mind, she asked softly, "And how does your wife feel with you away for such long stretches of time? Surely such long passages of time at sea cause her heartbreak of her own." Norrington looked at her sharply, curious if Missus Ramage was indeed able to delve into his mind but saw that she was staring intently at her plate. Scarlet cheeks told of embarrassment for her forwardness, but Norrington saw it as what it was – a benign question meant to show interest in his life. And to deflect the attention away from herself.

Norrington snorted, unable to hold back a chuckle. He was also unable to look Julia in the eye lest he laugh harder. In his peripheral vision, Norrington could tell she looked up from her dinner and sat up straighter, anger stiffening her spine. Her reaction of indignation caused him even more merriment. Her umbrage was about to boil over to all out anger if he did not cease his amusement – and soon.

Before Norrington could think of what he was saying, the words rolled of his tongue, "Please forgive my rudeness. I mean not to laugh, but I was just thinking the exact same thought when you asked. Well, along the same lines, at least. I am not married. Truthfully, I have yet to find the right woman to share my life with. Of course, sailing prevents making any lasting attachments, but I dare say that I think I would like to settle down soon, a wife and a passel of children to welcome me home from a day's work. The older I get, well, the wanderlust in my bones lessens. I was engaged once, but she felt… that our paths diverged rather than welded together and soon found herself betrothed to another. Such is life."

Julia was able to ascertain that the bored shrug was affected and that it hurt him deeply that his former fiancée sought partnership elsewhere. The hurt he felt certainly made his treatment of her more understandable, even… acceptable. Without thinking she said under her breath, "Captain Norrington, if you will allow me to be so bold I must remark that she is a fool. It would be my hope that your former fiancée and mine are able to cast their lot together, for it sounds like they are made for one another. Now, since I have thoroughly embarrassed myself, I shall bid you a pleasant evening and retreat back to my cabin." Julia rose, setting her napkin on the table beside her plate and made to move past the captain for the door, but he also stood. Her path was effectively blocked.

Confusion marred his features, but his smile was kind. "Please, do not go. Not yet. There is no need to feel uncomfortable. I… This evening has been a pleasant change of pace. Not only for the peace between us, but also having a dinner companion whom is of some refinement. Save for Mister Cobb – whom is in the brig and will not be bothering you the rest of the voyage – my men are wonderful. But they are most barbaric in their eating habits," he sighed. "But thank you for that… compliment. That means a lot to me. More than you know. But I thought you said you were married? I am afraid I do not understand. A fiancé?"

Unable to look him in the eye, Julia smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of the waist of her gown. Heat radiated off his body, making her very aware of how close he stood to her. "That I was. But before that, I was engaged – temporarily. In a previous lifetime, there was another man. One that stole my heart, then stole my life away from me. That engagement ended with great bitterness and caused me to marry a man I barely knew and move half a world away. So, not to take anything away from you, I can certainly understand your anger."

Norrington mulled over what Missus Ramage just told him. "Then if you will allow me to be so forward, if the termination of your betrothal was not at your hands, then I must say that he is an imbecile. Why on earth would…?" The question was not spoken with the expectation of an answer, but rather as if the captain was talking to himself – surprising them both. "Forgive me. I spoke too freely. My words got away from me."

Julia dipped her chin down in shame. She had not meant to fish for a compliment.

Julia then shook her head and chuckled, the sound hollow and without mirth. She turned, sinking into her seat, acquiescing to his earlier request. Julia quietly regarded Norrington, sudden comprehension that she was telling him – the one person who had treated her without a scrap of respect – details of her life that were incriminating. But never having been told, it was liberating to release secrets that had been tightly bound to her heart. Even if everything might still get thrown back in her face.

With a barely perceptible nod and an arched brow, she responded, "It was I that was a fool. I learned that flowery words and cheap trinkets do not make for true love. I listened with my heart and not my head. While my husband was a good man, a fair man, I would not have chosen him for myself. But the man I was engaged to… I was the envy of every girl I knew. He was the one man whom every girl fancied. He was the one man whom every other man wanted as a friend. And the one man whom I despise with all my being. And will do so to the day that I die."

The sheer anger in her voice startled Norrington. Unsure of how to respond, he folded himself back into his chair, then shifted awkwardly, trying to formulate words. Sensing that she had overstepped her boundaries, Julia quickly continued.

"I apologize for my bitterness and for putting you… in a uncomfortable position. I just… May we please talk about something else?"

Norrington leaned forward and pounded his fist against the tabletop once, the impact rattling the dishes. "It is not my place to ask, but this runs deeper than just setting you aside, does it not?"

Julia swallowed hard, then turned away from the captain, finding a crevice in the floorboard suddenly fascinating. Wetting her lips several times, she debated whether she should be forthright in her answer and suffer possible further humiliation or allow herself to come off as a shrew and keep her hurt to herself. _This is one way to test our newly forged friendship…_

"Yes. It does."

Norrington was quiet for a moment, looking carefully at his passenger. The look on her face was utter horror. His heart nearly broke at the pain she had endured. If only… "You know, you do not need to make me privy to those reasons, but I strongly doubt that you have ever let those bottled up emotions out. While I am in no position to offer assuagement, considering how I have previously judged you, I can be an excellent listener."

Julia swallowed. Hard. If she did not know better, Julia would say that the man before her was the kindest of souls. The epitome of tolerance and graciousness. The same man whom warned her that her that there was no fraternizing with the crew because he thought her a whore. But here he was, trying to be sympathetic. And what was the worst that could happen? _That I cement his lowly status of me?_ "He… he did what many young men do – requested marital rights prior to our wedding day. After nearly a year of his pestering, I finally consented. We were engaged for a year and a half, our wedding day just weeks away. I thought, what was the harm? He had been so patient; it was the least I could do. His excuse was that it would save me from unbearable pain on the night of what was to be the happiest day of my life. I loved him; I thought he loved me.

"No sooner was the act completed, I suddenly was branded a soiled woman and not worthy of his affections. He made certain that everyone knew what I had done, that I had coupled with a man without the sanctity of marriage. Although he carefully omitted that it was with him, my fiancé, that I laid. Once my purity was obliterated, he moved on and my family was left to deal with the wreckage that was once my life. It was quickly arranged that I married a widower twenty-three years my senior who had designs on becoming a father immediately. He was kind to me, but I had my role and he had his and nary the two could mingle. I never did give him the child he craved, a fact he blamed on my previous indiscretion." Julia paused, exhausted by her revelation, and shrugged slightly. "What can I say? I was young, foolish and was easily lead astray."

Biting the skin on the inside of his bottom lip, Norrington clenched his fists and felt feverishly warm. Men treated women poorly; it was an unfortunate fact. But to have a woman consent to such a request – demand really – and then throw her away? Especially one who not only looked like Missus Ramage, but had the brains and sense to be an enjoyable companion? "Please allow me the request of knowing his name so that if I ever cross paths with him in my travels, I might find a new arrangement for his nose. Amongst other appendages."

Shocked, Julia placed her hand at her throat as she recoiled from the venom in his words. But they were not directed at her, much to Julia's relief. Rather, at what had happened to her. The difference caused her heart to skip a beat. There would be no more hostility between herself and the captain. No more surliness. No more disdain. _I know I should not ask, but how, in the course of a few short days, have I gone from wanton to redeemed? Even after admitting to such an act…_

The answer was barely more than a whisper.

"Cutler Beckett. Lord Cutler Beckett."

Norrington felt the blood in his veins turn to ice water.


	14. Chapter 14

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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A rap at the door announced breakfast. Julia turned from the window, her lungs filled with a deep breath of the fresh salt air. A smile played at the corner of her lips at the thought of the captain on the other side of the door. 

Julia had awoken at dawn, feeling more refreshed and alive than she had in longer than she cared to admit. The evening before had ended early, with the captain squiring Julia back to her cabin. Upon reaching her door, the captain took her hand in his, and after a moment's hesitation, kissed not the back of her palm, but a valley between her knuckles. Her reaction reminded her of sensations she thought were long dead.

If asked, Julia would deny that she had hoped the captain had been flirting with her. He had certainly shown a side of himself that Julia did not think possible. Although, she had to admit, he seemed to withdraw somewhat after the revelation of her former fiancé's name, as if the captain may have known Lord Beckett. _No, that is not possible._ That small moment was the only blemish in an otherwise stellar evening, and soon was forgotten once the captain chatted about his men and their commendable actions during the storm. Good food, coupled with the unburdening of past hurts that were listened to by surprisingly sympathetic ears, made for an unexpected evening that was supposed to have been extremely awkward. But Julia could not recall having such a gratifying evening.

Especially with such a handsome dinner companion.

Shaking her head at the thought, Julia mentally chastised herself for indulging such girlish thoughts. The captain – or someone – was standing on the other side of the door, waiting to deliver Julia her breakfast. Making him wait in the hallway any longer would border on rudeness.

"Come in," Julia called over her shoulder, allowing herself the precious few seconds it would take whomever it was behind the door to turn the knob and enter to smooth any loose wisps of hair back into place. Julia then stuck her head back out the window, pretending to find something quite engaging in the water, unable to prevent a full-fledged grin from appearing on her lips.

"Miss Ramage?"

Julia was grateful that her back was to the door, lest Mister Heaney see the disappointment on her face. Taking in another deep breath, then sighing quietly, Julia plastered a serene smile on her lips and turned to face the quartermaster. Seeing that his arms were laden not only with her breakfast tray but also other items, Julia crossed the room and relieved him of her victuals, quickly setting the tray on her bed before allowing her grin to deepen to a dazzling smile.

"Good morning to you, Mister Heaney."

"And also to you, Miss Ramage," he replied with a grin. "Sorry your breakfast is late. There seemed to be some confusion as to who would deliver your food to your room. I hope you are not too terribly hungry, as… well… I am so sorry you had to wait so long."

Julia did not want to comment on the feast she consumed last night or that, because of the banquet, it seemed nigh on impossible for her to have an appetite for the next several days to come.

Fixing a warm smile on the quartermaster, Julia placed her hands on her hips in mock admonishment. "There is no need to waste your worrying on me. I had not noticed the passage of time, as my attention was otherwise captured by the seagulls resting on the breeze outside my window. Besides, it is not as late as you think it is. My stomach has yet to chastise me, so there is no need for concern. But I thank you greatly for taking the time to bring me my meal; I know you are a very busy man."

The discomfiture washing over his features was nearly painful to watch. A good twenty-years older than she, his black hair was etched with gray at the temples and his face held lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth which were formulated over years of squinting into the sun and sea. Julia found the man to be quite handsome and personable. But also awkward around women, as if unused to being around the fairer sex, which made Julia feel embarrassed for him. In another time and another place, Julia might have cast her eyes in his general direction, for he was kind, pleasing not only in the face and, seemingly, well tempered. Or, Julia surmised, she would at least have smiled at him across a crowded ballroom with the hopes he might ask for a dance. But as it was, Julia found it pleasant to have someone on board who appeared just as they seemed – in his case, pleasant and considerate.

"Well, that is true; lots to do today. But, before I go, would you… would you mind taking a look at my shirt? I tore it on a broken beam during the storm and I know I would make a big mess out of trying to repair the damage. Normally, I would not ask, but you had offered to do some sewing, when looking for something to do the other day…"

Julia took pity on the man before her. His cheeks were as bright red as the apples in the trees behind her home. Not allowing herself to get wistful at the thought of her impending homecoming, Julia slowly nodded her head, a serene smile curving her lips, and said, "I would be happy to mend your shirt. However, I am not in possession of a needle and thread. Do you happen to have those on you or should we go searching for those very necessary items?"

With a grin that would rival the enthusiasm of a five-year-old boy given every Christmas present he ever wanted – all at one time – Mister Heaney vigorously nodded his head as he slid his hand into his pants pocket. Removing a leather bag, he worked the drawstring open and pulled out a spool of thread stabbed through with a needle. A small pair of scissors caught the light and gleamed in the recesses of the leather pouch.

Julia held her hand out, silently commanding the man before her to hand over the sewing kit. Once the pouch was in her right hand, Julia then extended her left, her gaze on the shirt draped over the quartermaster's arm. He handed it over without comment, his smile blinding.

"I should have this completed shortly; no more than an hour at most. Shall I come find you or do you want to return later?"

Mister Heaney regarded the woman before him. Her hair was pulled back in a simple braid, which was then pinned around the perimeter of her hairline, loose tendrils jutting out here and there. Her cheeks were flushed, not with embarrassment but with excitement. It was difficult for him to believe that a lass such as her was unmarried at her age, although everyone had their own story and Mister Heaney was sure she had her reasons. _If I were a younger man, I would swoop in and grab her up. But, alas, I am married to the sea and there is no way a woman such as her would play second fiddle as a mistress. But maybe the captain… he might yet be salvageable. _

Shaking his head, as if ridding his mind of unwanted thoughts, Mister Heaney took a step backwards. "Miss Ramage, I thank you for your help. I shall return in a bit to retrieve my shirt. If you are not here in your quarters, just leave the shirt on the door handle. Now, although it is extremely rude, I must go to my post. I am deeply in your debt."

Her dimple appeared in her cheek. "We shall discuss the nonsense of your statement later. Now go, leave me to my work. My fingers have been lax for too long. I shall look forward to mending this blemish. A good morning to you." Julia bobbed her head in dismissal, then took a seat on her berth. She smiled down at the shirt as she heard the retreating footsteps of the quartermaster.

After the passage of nearly three quarters of an hour, for she allowed herself to get distracted from her endeavor more than once, Julia found herself nearly finished with her task and allowed the chatter of the gulls to once again catch her attention. Rising from her bed, she set aside the sewing and went to the window. Enraptured, Julia watched as a flock rode the air currents, their eyes on the waves as they looked for prey. Resting her forearms on the sill, Julia watched with fascination and near-envy. The birds looked carefree and content, conversing amongst themselves while waiting for a hapless fish to swim near the surface.

"Missus Ramage." The words were soft, like a caress, across her cheek. But also deep and rich… nearly tangible in their rich texture. It was everything she could do to not close her eyes and allow her head to loll to the side, exposing her neck for a hand to glide across her skin.

Instead, Julia pivoted, trying to cover the fact that she was caught completely off-guard by flashing him a blinding smile.

"Captain," she whispered. Realizing the word came out barely audible, she swallowed and tried again. "And how may I help you today?" Good, her words came out stronger.

Captain Norrington's eyes twinkled. Over the sound of the waves crashing against the hull, he could hear the call of the birds to one another. The flush in her cheeks was not just from his sudden appearance – the wind had whipped at her cheeks as she had studied the seagulls. Her hair wisped around her face in mild disarray.

The woman before him was not an elegant society lady to be met in a proper drawing room, but an enthusiastic observer of the life revolving around her. And although there was a time such excitement would have been frowned upon by him, especially after the tumultuous relationship he had with Elizabeth Swann, the captain found Julia quite charming. Oh, there was no doubt that she could hold her own in social situations, but in the few days of their acquaintance, Norrington realized that Julia was not one to rely on anyone but herself. Too many past disappointments when others let her down cemented her absolute lack of trust. Biting the inside of his bottom lip, the captain formulated his thoughts, completely unaware that she watched the movement in complete fascination.

Swallowing hard, Norrington realized the best way to convey his news was to do so quickly and without apology. Or with minimal regret at most, for he was more sorry than was proper. "I apologize for the short notice, but I wanted to tell you personally that Charles Towne is but two hours away, more or less. Your journey is nearly complete." He hated that his words sounded so callous, but there was no time for sentiment.

It took a moment for the comments to register, but once the words sank in, instead of feeling elation, Julia suddenly felt the room spin, as if the wind got knocked out of her. "I… well… 'Tis good to know that your men were able to keep your ship on course, despite the storm. I just have to secure the stitches I set down in Mister Heaney's shirt and then I shall collect my belongings. When we reach port, I shall be ready."

The captain knew he was reaching in thinking that there was an undercurrent of remorse in the tone of Julia's words. He should have given her more advanced warning, should have told her last night. But waiting until the last possible moment kept her thoughts closer to activity on the ship rather than resuming her life in Charles Towne. _Idiot._

Norrington had much to do, but there was a topic of conversation he had to broach before entry into port. "I also wanted you to know that you and Mister Cobb will not be crossing paths in any way once we reach shore. I do not want your homecoming marred in any way by such unhappy thoughts. Mister Cobb will not be departing the ship when we dock. We will be seeking justice for him at the port of origin."

Julia felt the color drain from her cheeks. Whispers of rumors circulated about what caused the first mate to end up behind bars and much of the speculation reached her ears. But, as far as Julia could tell, the captain had kept mum as to the details of the crime against her to the crew. "I know that you put him far below deck, in the brig. But whispers have reached my ears that he was physically punished for his actions. Did I hear correctly?"

Norrington could not look into those cerulean eyes that were so filled with confusion, especially knowing that his next words would upset her more. "I gave him ten lashes for what he did to you, yes. There was no excuse for him trying to compromise your integrity. Especially after telling him that you were not interested in such pursuits. Even if my original assumption of you had been correct, there was no reason for any of us to force ourselves upon you. And since I was wrong, then Mister Cobb's advances were that much more grievous." At the look of alarm upon Julia's face, Norrington continued. "I would have stopped at five lashes, but he… he kept saying… that his only regret was not… going farther with you. I… should not have let myself get so angry; the men had to stop me from continuing. I guess you could say that I lost control."

Shocked that the events had catapulted into such extreme punishment, Julia took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and said, "Captain, I appreciate your attempt to restore my honor," _an honor you stole from me to begin with_, "but such action seems excessive. I mean not to tell you how to do your job, but there was no need to… flog the man." At the look of anger marring his features, Julia hastily amended, "But you did rescue me from a possibly dangerous – and certainly terrifying – situation and I know I sound ungracious; I am not. Do not think that I am not thankful that you were in the right place at the right time. I just feel undeserving of such a strong reaction for such an indiscretion on Mister Cobb's part. Many men had done much worse to other women and received no retribution, so I feel a little… overwhelmed."

It took everything in his power to not cross the room and pull her into his arms, although he was unsure if he wanted to comfort her or shake some sense into her. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the open doorway. It was the safest course of action. "Missus Ramage, I had warned them men that if they laid one finger on you, be it welcome or not, that they would feel the tongue of a lash upon their skin. To not do so would cause the men to question my authority. It was not something I wanted to do, but it had to be done." Taking pity on the woman before him, Norrington added, "Besides, there is nothing worse a man could do to a woman and I think that he paid but a small price for his indiscretion." Then he pushed himself off the doorframe with his foot and turned, as if retreating back into the hallway, but grabbed the doorframe and stuck his head back in the room.

"Now, you know I would be remiss if I did not ensure that your safe passage did not extend all the way to your home. Once we dock, I will be leaving the removal of cargo to the supervision of Mister Heaney and shall escort you myself to your home."

Julia found herself in the unfortunate position of being caught completely off-guard and not knowing how to respond. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she was able to even begin to attempt to articulate her thoughts. "That… While certainly appreciated, that is very unnecessary, Captain. Once we reach shore, I can certainly acquire coach to my residence. Again, I do not want you to think that I am ungrateful, as I very much appreciate the offer, but your men will need you this afternoon more than I. It will be no problem for me to make it home on my own, so please, do not worry yourself over me."

Norrington could not prevent himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Missus Ramage, this is not open to negotiation – I shall accompany you back to your residence. Now, forgive me as I must get back to the preparations for docking in Charles Towne."

Julia was left with her mouth agape – a retort coming too slowly – as the captain disappeared from sight. After a moment, she sank into the chair and rested her face in her hands.

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**A/N**: Thank you all so very much for reading. Their trip might be ending soon, but there is definitely much more to the story. I appreciate your patience and support. :) 


	15. Chapter 15

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

* * *

When Julia came above deck, the sky was clear and bright but the heat had changed. It was still unbearably hot, but now it was comfortable… familiar. The air caressed her skin like an old friend welcoming back a weary traveler after a long absence. The smell in air was different; it was hard to place just what the scent was, but there was a sweetness of wild roses and sea grass that reminded her of… _Home!_ With a smile that nearly obliterated the sun in its brilliance, she tore across the deck, fistfuls of skirt in her hands, unmindful of the ventilation gratings or the stares of the crew. Reaching the railing at the stern of the ship, Julia had to grab hold of the balustrade lest her enthusiasm cause her to tumble overboard into the water. Before her, the crescent horizon of her hometown arced around her as the _Amphitrite_ entered the waters of Charles Towne Harbor.

The waves glistened like millions of twinkling stars as the ship entered the bay. Unmindful of the activity swirling behind her as the crew prepared for docking, Julia stood enraptured as she was able to watch the vista of Charles Towne become more distinct as the ship made haste to the docks that would denote the end of her journey. _My God, my Hell is about to conclude. Halleluiah! Or… am I just going back to the ring of Hell in which I have languished the past few months… years? Bloody Hell! And… why am I so melancholy at the idea of the voyage ending? Is it… is it because I have finally found the captain to be almost charitable in his feelings towards me? There is no way that I will miss him once we part ways. Is there?_

In the blink of an eye, the wharf appeared all too soon and Julia was pulled from her ruminations as the _Amphitrite_ bumped against the dock. The sudden pitch in the ship's docking caused Julia to lurch against the railing and she had to scramble to keep her footing. As she clung to the railing, one thought occurred to her – disappointment. It surged through her, much to Julia's horror and dismay. She was finally home; was that not what she had wanted for weeks on end?

Longshoremen and dockers on the pier quickly scrambled to secure the mooring lines members of the _Amphitrite_ crew threw down. The gangplank was then heaved into place but Julia was surprised that she had no desire to run down the bridge and put the whole disastrous trip behind her. To pretend that her heart had not been shattered when her sister died in her arms. To pretend that her reputation had not been sullied by the unsubstantiated opinions of a ship captain with whom she was only beginning to understand. Instead, Julia wanted to hole herself up in the cabin she had occupied for the better of a week, open her book and lazily stroke her newfound feline companion.

_Well, since none of that shall ever happen again, I suppose I should start moving towards the gangplank myself. Soon, I will not be even a passing memory to any of these men. And I shall remember these men all the days of my life._ Julia smiled ruefully as she pushed herself away from the railing and crossed the deck. Her belongings had been placed near the captain's quarters and as she stopped before the door, Julia sighed wistfully, then picked up her bags. Another few moments and she would be on her way, captain or no captain.

"Miss Ramage! Let me take your valises from you."

Julia paused and turned in the direction of the voice, smiling when her blue eyes settled on Mister Greene. The giddiness that tinged his every movement reminded Julia that the men she had traveled with were indeed in love with the sea, but that time on land was the dessert to a banquet of sailing. His smile was infectious and Julia's grin mirrored Mister Greene's.

"Mister Greene, good afternoon. Are you not excited to be on dry land? And what a beautiful day to go with our high spirits…" Julia knew the tone of her voice did not match her words, so she broke eye contact and readjusted the satchel under her left arm.

"Miss Ramage! Let me get that…" At the look she cast his way, Mister Greene stopped in his tracks. There was a stubbornness to her chin, a determination to her mouth, a sadness to her eyes.

"Thank you, Mister Greene, but no. If I had my way, I would be departing the ship with all of you. But, Captain Norrington has other plans. He feels the need to escort me to my home. And so I wait for him to appear. Have you seen him recently?"

Mister Greene hoped the shock did not register on his face. Escort the passenger home? In all his years at sea, the boatswain could not recall a single instance in where the procurement of passage extended all the way to the doorstep. _Unless… _"Nay, Miss Ramage. Though I think that he is still ensconced in his quarters. If you are worried, you could knock on the door. I am sure he would not mind for he would have to understand your impatience."

Julia could feel his hesitation, as he obviously wanted to depart the ship with his fellow crewmembers, but felt an obligation to keep an eye on the captain's ward. She reached on her right hand and rubbed his shoulder. "'Twas a pleasure to meet you Mister Greene, but go. I thank you and everyone for everything – please convey my appreciation to the other men – but feel no more obligations to me. Be off with you and enjoy your day. Enjoy the rest of your days. Please. It was very nice meeting you. Take care of yourself."

The boatswain flushed red, but with a "The same to you. It was a pleasure," bobbed his head and galloped down the gangplank. Once Mister Heaney had made arrangements for the cargo to be unloaded and delivered, most of the crew pressed against one another in their excitement to reach solid ground. Julia smiled ruefully, knowing the men were eager to participate in more… salacious pursuits, and she wanted to stay out of their way. But, she had not seen Captain Norrington for several hours and if he did not appear soon, she was going to depart the ship herself and acquire passage back to her home – alone.

"Missus Ramage."

The words were spoken with a hesitancy that surprised Julia, but were still as effective in causing her heart to race as ever. She turned, setting her bags down as she did so, to acknowledge the captain standing behind her. Julia was surprised at how close he stood for she did not hear his tread on the boards of the deck. His green eyes were soft with humor.

"Captain Norrington, you surprised me. I thought you were in your quarters. Is there… is there anything I might be able to do to help in any way?" Julia was angry with herself for the reaction she felt upon seeing the captain, but there was little she could do. When he was polite, of which he had been of late, there was no denying the captain was a handsome man. And… they would part ways soon enough. But until then, it would be prudent not to act like a moon-eyed schoolgirl. _What is it, or, rather, when was it, that caused you to go from immense irritation to actual giddiness whenever the captain was within earshot?_

Norrington regarded the woman before him with a calculated eye, for there would be few moments left to do so. A black bonnet covered the majority of her tresses but what peeked out caught the sunlight, causing her hair to glint and wink various shades of burnished copper. A breeze skimmed across the deck, teasing the fabric of her dress, a mourning dress that she had not once worn during the whole journey, causing it to cling enticingly to her body. He had to look away lest he notice how the wind embellished the curves of her figure. Damn if she did not look more alluring in widow's weeds than she did at any other time during the journey.

"Actually, there is."

His words were soft and caused Julia to look sharply at the captain and swallow hard, slightly taken aback by his reply. Not that her offer was an empty one, but it was unexpected that the captain would accept her overture. Her chest rose as her pulse thundered under her skin. Throwing her shoulders back as if donning an invisible shawl of confidence, she smiled to cover up her surprise and waited for a further explanation.

"Missus Ramage, this box is for you. The, uh… the men wanted you to have something to remember the voyage by… to remember them by. They… they asked me what would be… most appreciated – by you. In the form of a gift," he quickly added. "After some thought, I told them that as much as you love the water, it is the birds in the air that capture your attention the most. They took that information and pooled their abilities and created a gift for you. Be flattered, Missus Ramage, for they have not done this for any other passenger before. I take no credit for what you have just received and while it may not be much, it is heartfelt and earnest."

Curious, Julia took the container from the captain's arms, very aware of the physical contact of her fingertips brushing against his bare forearms, and set the hamper on the wooden deck. Julia wondered if he felt the same thrill she did at the propinquity. But the thought was abandoned when she opened the lid, revealing the contents of the box. Her furrowed brow quickly disappeared and was replaced by a grin threatened to split Julia's face in two as she pushed back the lid with abandon.

"Oh bugger," Norrington muttered under his breath when he saw tears appear in his passenger's eyes. Wetting his lips, he looked away and quietly sighed to himself. The men had tried so hard to create something Julia would remember them fondly by. And here she was crying in disappointment. _I thought that she was less selfish than that._

"I cannot… I cannot believe that the men would do something… so… thoughtful." Julia's voice broke as she pulled the carving from its nest. In her fingers was a carved wooden gull, it's wings spread in flight, looking as if it were coasting on the gentle currents of air. Her index finger traced the fine lines that were accented with tints of color. Turning it over, Julia saw that the crew has each scrawled their names or, in some cases, marks in a group signature. Unable to speak, she pressed her lips together to choke back a sob.

A brow arched and it took everything in Norrington's power not to scoff. Instead, his voice carried an edge of sarcasm. "Do you always get this excited about hand made gifts?"

Julia blushed right up to the roots of her hair and beyond. "I… I have not gotten a gift since I was a girl. Pardon my enthusiasm, but this means more to me than words can express. The fact that they put so much effort into it means that much more to me." She ducked her head so the captain would not see the reappearance of tears in her eyes.

Confusion marred his august features. _Just when I think I understand this peculiar woman…_ And then it dawned on the captain – Julia was crying because she was pleased, not upset. "I am very sorry. I meant not to mock, only to tease. My social skills get unpolished when I set out to sea for long periods of time," Norrington said.

Julia shook her head. "No… There is no need to apologize. 'Tis I who should be doing that, actually. I appear very ungracious, but that could not be further from the truth. Please…" Julia groped for the appropriate words. "Please convey the impact of how much this gift means to me when you see your men next. Out of everything ever given to me in my lifetime, this means the most. Now, let me stop this… musing and let you get on with your day. The sooner you have me out of your hands, the sooner you can get to your life."

Norrington suppressed the urge to comment on the fact that she was not in his hands, bu he could remedy that and instead changed the subject. "I must apologize for running late. It took me quite some time to find an appropriate container for your gift. Although… I must admit surprise to finding you waiting here patiently."

Julia wondered if she could be witty or teasing and still keep up their fragile harmony or if it would be best to censor her words. _Bloody Hell, I shall never see him again after today and why should I start reigning myself in now?_ Her smile was blinding but her voice was etched with mild irritation. "Another few minutes, captain, and you would have not."

The captain opened his mouth to reply and then immediately closed it, as if unsure of what to say. Wetting his lips and giving a short nod of his head, Norrington picked up Julia's bags and said, "Then, shall we begin the final leg of your journey?"

Julia slipped the carving back into the hamper and closed the lid in place. As Julia did so, the captain picked up her luggage and indicated that she take the lead down the gangplank. Hugging the basket to her chest, Julia gathered her skirt in one hand, lest she trip as she descended the platform to the pier. Very aware of the captain's gaze boring into the back of her head, Julia allowed her hips to swing with a bit more exaggeration than was her normal gait. She knew she was playing with fire but soon the two of them would be parting ways, so what harm could there be?

The dock was noisy with chatter, a symphony of desperation. Stevedores yelled between each other and to the crewmembers of ships needing to be unloaded. Heads were tossed back in laughter as jokes were told and comments made. Ropes were tossed, were caught, were tied. Vendors set up shop for the departing passengers and crew, hawking everything from food and ale in impromptu taverns to exotic fabrics and ribbons to take home as an apology for being away so long. Unwashed masses, combined with the competing food stands and unloaded cargo, created a stench that, combined with the salt air, gave Julia a little thrill. Sitting on the dock in Nassau, she had been bored and beyond vexed, unable to appreciate her surroundings. But now, her blood practically sang in excitement and apprehension.

His eyes were dark green, nearly black, as Norrington grabbed Julia's elbow and whispered in her ear. "Stay close, lest someone make the same mistake I did when I first laid eyes on you."

Irritation flared in Julia's heart as she nodded her head tightly, glad for the reminder that the captain was insufferable. Looking sharply at the captain, Julia was disappointed that he missed the darkening of her own eyes and the scowl that marred her features. The retort that was on the tip of her tongue was swallowed back, figuring that any withering reply Julia lobbed at him would be pointless, as she followed the captain's broad shoulders as he plowed through the crowd.


	16. Chapter 16

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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**A/N**: Another short chappie, but I hope the turn-around from the last posting makes up for it. Also, this chapter is my "soapbox" chapter. Thanks for understanding and, again, thanks for reading:)

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Julia stiffened in anger as they strolled past a gathering of excited individuals waiting to board a ship. With a glare that could topple an invading army, Julia was unable to prevent a snort from escaping past her lips. By the way the group was dressed and the overheard words of "Negroes" and "slaves," Julia felt her stomach churn at the idea of yet another slave auction.

"Black ivory," she muttered under her breath, then rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration, her pace unconsciously slowing in an attempt to see what was happening on the main deck of the ship.

Norrington watched his self-appointed ward with a calculated eye. He felt the same revulsion at the idea of human trade, but was able to keep his emotions from surfacing amongst such a potentially volatile environment. But he was curious… "You look rather disgusted with the whole affair." His tone was neutral, detached, giving no indication of his opinion on the matter.

Julia stopped in her tracks, then spun to face the captain, her eyes on fire. She hugged the basket tightly to her person, as if her sanity depended on it. Her words came out in a ragged whisper; as if mindful of the danger her words could put the two of them in. "Aye, that I am. More than I can put into words, Captain Norrington. It frightens me greatly that some day I might get a little color to my skin myself and end in the same position they are. There is nothing different between myself and that woman sobbing on the auction block. Nothing except for the color of our skin. Next, who is to say that blonde hair is not superior to brown? Or that brown eyes will not preferred to blue. 'Tis a fine line we all walk, but most are too stupid to know so."

Norrington smiled, finding her candor refreshing, if not reflective of his own viewpoints. Mindful that it was only a matter of time before their words were overheard or someone noticed the anger coloring Julia's features, he continued walking, setting a pace that forced Julia to walk quickly beside him. And thus putting as much distance between themselves and the ship. "Unfortunately you are in the minority in that line of thinking." Norrington's words were carefully chosen, but held a vulnerability that belied his indifferent projection.

Julia nodded her head in agreement, but Norrington noticed that there was a far away look in her eyes; physically Julia might be walking away from the auction but mentally she was standing right beside the woman that people were bidding on. After nodding her head absently for several moments, she finally responded. "That I am, Captain, that I am. What I would give to have enough money to buy them all and then set them free… Let them go back to their homes and their families. They look so brave, so stoic. I do not envy them in the least, but their courage is commendable."

"So far from home…" Norrington left the thought unfinished, feeling his voice catch in his throat. Many times he had been offered huge amounts of compensation to transport enslaved humans, but the money would never be enough. Norrington had done enough unconscionable acts in his lifetime, but the thought of adding to the nightmare these people had to endure was enough to make the financial decision for him quite easy.

_I think that is the one thing that Jack Sparrow and I are in agreement over. We both ended our careers with the East India Trading Company for the same reason. If that is not ironic, then the definition of the word has changed._

Julia nodded her head solemnly, wishing she knew if the captain shared her opinions or if it was yet another topic on which they would butt heads. And while their time together was quickly dwindling, it was important to Julia that they be of the same mindset. Her voice was rushed, almost reverent. "Very far. They come mainly from West Africa. The Gold Coast preferably. Since the majority of people being bought over will be growing rice, a very difficult crop to learn to grow, the kidnappers tend to find people who already know how the plant is cultivated."

Julia sighed and then said quietly, her words barely above a whisper, "So confused they must be. Kidnapped, stolen, whatever you want to call it, rushed onto ships to endure a torturous passage, and then ending up on Sullivan's Island out there where they are all quarantined for a week and a half before ending up on the auction block like they are."

"Quarantined?"

Julia barely nodded her head in agreement, her eyes flashing in anger as a woman stumbled as she was pushed onto the auction block. "Yes. There is a lazaretto, a pest house, on the lower end of island where the Africans must stay for ten days. Some Europeans also are sequestered, so it is not solely for slaves – although I am sure that they are just as scared and confused. But no auctions take place on the island; rather, they are brought over to the mainland for that honor. The purpose of the detention is to keep epidemics from sweeping through the colony. And while I have not been able to come up with an alternative, I think the practice barbaric for anyone to have to endure, least of all people who are here against their will. And do not even begin to let me tirade about indentured servitude and the enslavement of the native population. I can only pray that trading becomes even more customary so that the idea of slavery is slowly phased out. Although, I shall not hold my breath."

Norrington felt the same outrage that Julia felt for the plight of their fellow man, but he did not want to defend their viewpoints against an angry mob. And while he wanted to continue their conversation at a later time, he wondered if there was a way to change the subject without raising her ire.

In a hushed voice, Norrington said, "Fear not, for I believe just as you do. I, in no way, condone the actions of those vile men who enslave their fellow man. Just… certain words can be inflammatory and while you yourself are not, I am certainly a stranger in a strange land. And am not comfortable fighting a hugely controversial battle – one that I hope is settled within the next few years – on unfamiliar ground."

Julia could not fault her escort for his lack of verbal conviction in such a public place even if his heart felt otherwise. Normally, she could keep her tongue on such matters at all times, even in private drawing rooms with people of the same persuasion. Always listening, Julia locked people's opinions away and formulated ways to help others. But not until she gathered as many details as possible… and not enough details had been gathered yet. "You are right, I spoke out of turn. Although that should not surprise you in the least at this juncture in our relationship. But now you have something else to worry about. And plenty of it…" Julia emphasized her words with a point of her finger.

"Oh?" The deeply condescending tone lowered the timbre of his voice, causing Julia to shiver unexpectedly. Rubbing her arms absently, Julia forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand rather than the anger that was starting flare in reaction to his arrogant attitude. But, as the absurdity of the situation dawned on her, it took everything in Julia's power to keep from laughing.

However, she was unable to keep the mirth in her voice, which made her sound much younger than her years. "Oh yes. That little pickpocket just lifted your bag off your person. I would best get after him if you want to get it back!" Her pointed finger followed the bobbing and weaving back of the perpetrator as the crowd began to swallow him from view.

Norrington tore his gaze away from his ward and watched the retreating street urchin as he attempted to get lost in the crowd. It would be just a short sprint before Norrington would catch the troublesome child, but that was not the cause of his irritation. Rather, he found Missus Ramage's delight at his situation aggravating. _What the Bloody Hell did she find so damned funny? Are we not on better ground after all this time? Why is my being robbed amusing?_

"Stay here," Norrington commanded. "Do not move. Under any circumstances!" With that, he set off at a dead run to retrieve his monies.

Julia knew that she deserved his anger and was unable to explain why she found the situation so entertaining, even to herself. Maybe it was the audacity of the pickpocket to lift a purse not only in broad daylight, but in full view of Julia. Maybe it was the fact that she was finally home and things were still not falling back into normality. But regardless, the captain was roundly irritated with her for finding humor in the situation. And rightfully so.

So wait she would. And patiently, too. In his haste to catch the street urchin, the captain had haphazardly dropped her bags, so Julia squatted to collect her belongings and move them out of the path of others, lest she find herself in the same situation as the captain. Julia then closed her eyes and sighed, her wrists resting on her knees, and began to mentally chastise herself.

_You stupid, stupid woman. You just had to find the situation amusing. But, after the conversation about slavery, was it not humorous in comparison? Could nothing be more absurd happen after what we witnessed when departing the ship?_

"Missus Ramage."

The words slid like ice across her hot skin. There was no hostility in his voice, only curiosity. And Julia could swear that she heard the undertone of sadness.

Julia looked up from her squatting position, embarrassed to be caught in such an unladylike pose. Quickly scrambling to stand, Julia was unable to meet the captain's eyes as she smoothed her skirt in place. Her words were eager, but barely a whisper. "Captain! You… you got your coin back?"

Norrington smirked. The woman still surprised him. Here she was, dressed in mourning garb – something she had not worn until today – looking quite apologetic and penitent. But he was not about to let go of her actions so easily. "Yes, thanks to your quick eye. Although, no one else has ever laughed when someone was robbed in my vicinity before. I find that remarkably fascinating."

Julia swallowed, hard. "I must confess that I not only found the audacity of the child absurd, but the timing – on the heels of such a… volatile conversation topic – is what I found particularly remarkable. I did not mean to offend." She thought for a moment, then whispered, "For my… inappropriate behavior, please, allow me to make you dinner when we arrive at my home. It will not be much, but it is the least I could do for you."

Norrington carefully considered her offer. And when he thought about the timing of the pickpocket, even Norrington had to admit that Julia was not laughing at him, or even what happened to him, but rather at the timing of the circumstances. And the thought of weevil-free food… "While I would like nothing more than a home-cooked meal, I have to comment on the fact that you have not been home for several weeks."

Julia shrugged, not caring that proper women did no such thing. Suddenly, it was very important to Julia that the captain and she not part ways any sooner than she could prevent, much to her own shock. "Well, it shall not be fancy, but I think I can scrounge up something filling and, if I do say so, tasty. As I said, 'tis the least I can do for you."

Norrington was quiet a moment, silently observing his ward, his brow raised in curiosity. The look on her face was naked and open. Not pleading, but certainly hoping. Why was it that a week or so ago he was regretting not drowning her soon after beginning the voyage and now there was an ache in his chest at the thought of parting ways with her?

Drawing a deep breath, then expelling it in a tired sigh, he acquiesced. "I do thank you. I know that after all the time away, you would like nothing more than your privacy, but I shall impose upon your hospitality. I would very much like to dine with you one last time."

Julia was silent as she fell into step beside the captain, censoring her reply that there was nothing she would like more than to extend the fleeting time they had together. For once, no irritation flowed through her as the captain took over the hiring of a wagon to deliver them to her home.


	17. Chapter 17

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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Norrington was taken completely aback when Julia asked, "While I am fixing the chowder and bread, would you like to get cleaned up? Will take no time at all to draw you a bath and I have some clean clothes of my husband's that might just fit you. I promise you that would cause me no heartbreak to part with the items. Besides, it would give you something to do while I prepare our food." 

Swallowing hard, the first thought that entered his mind was that the majority of baths taken, to the best of his knowledge, happened in the keeping room… where Julia would be fixing their meal. And if that was the case, then the hell with the meal, he wanted Julia to soap his back – and other parts of his person. But he knew such thoughts were improper and that Julia would not offer if she had not planned on keeping her virtue intact.

As if reading his mind, Julia continued, "We have a borning room that we built for the infirm that also allows for privacy when bathing. That way, you shall have your privacy, but if you are in need of anything, I will be within earshot." At the look of confusion coloring his features, Julia explained further. "A borning room is where people are born into this world and born out of this world. It also has outside access without having to go through the house. In addition to doctoring in there, my husband wished… for privacy when he bathed. So he would commandeer the infirmary. I am sure having access to the outside allowed for him to entertain visitors without having me meet his guests. Regardless, I must admit that I find it relaxing, having a room to disappear into when I take a bath myself."

Norrington eyed the woman standing before him. There was no embarrassment tingeing her cheeks. There was no adverted gaze. There was no shuffling of her feet. There was only Julia staring at him with an expectant look coloring her features. Nothing seedy. Nothing improper. Nothing like the thoughts dancing though his mind. His jaw clenched involuntarily and his left brow rose in curiosity. "Are you insinuating that I am in need of a bath?" Norrington was thrilled that his tone was light.

Without even blinking, she answered, "Yes."

His lips curved into a smile, as did Julia's. Ah, there was the Missus Ramage he had come to know and… appreciate. _Bloody Hell, why did it take so long to think of an appropriate word to finish that thought?_ Letting his gaze drift away from his hostess, Norrington found himself staring at a painting of Julia's dead husband. It was unnerving to Norrington knowing what the man looked like. Especially when comparing the man to himself. Norrington shook his head, as if ridding the thought from his head.

Turning back to his hostess, Norrington purred. "Then again, I shall take advantage of your hospitality. But only if you will let me draw the bathwater. It is the least I can do while you are preparing our dinner."

Julia sighed. The man before did not take to kindness easily. Fine. She would let him think they were playing his game, but they were her rules.

"Certainly. Although you are a hard man to be nice to, I want you to know that." Getting a glimmer of a smile from the captain, Julia pivoted and started for the keeping room. "Now follow me, I shall show you were you will bathe. A door leads to the outside where we… I mean I… heat the water during the warmer months. No sense in making the house an hotter than the summer temperatures already do." Julia finished in a rush, stumbling over her words after she made reference to their being more than herself in the house at one point in time.

Norrington followed Julia's retreating back, appreciating the sway of her hips and lines of her neck, hating himself for allowing his thoughts to wander beneath her skirts, but unable to help himself. But, Norrington told himself, soon he would be out of her hair – but what he would not give to see her hair unbound one last time and caressing the curves of her naked back – and on his way back to a life on the seas.

After heating four bucketfuls of water, he found himself soaking in a tub of lukewarm water. Through the door to the yard, he could hear Julia humming to herself as she utilized the same fire used to heat his bathwater to simmer the chowder she was concocting. Sliding down so that the water hit his chin, Norrington ruminated over the events of the past several hours.

Passing through the heart of the city to the outskirts of town where she lived, Julia made small talk, pointing out areas of interest and giving a simple history of the town. Norrington was impressed that she not only was able to give details of Charles Towne, but how the city impacted others or was impacted by other towns. He had no idea that many people summered north in Boston and then traveled south to Charles Towne for the winter – or that the towns were sister cities. When Norrington pointed out how the streets were laid out in an orderly fashion, Julia confirmed his observations by explaining that Charles Towne was planned and designed with a street grid plotted before the construction of the homes. She then went on to explicate that Charles Towne was the fifth largest city in the Colonies and that Charles Towne was a port of call for piracy and smuggling trade, much like Tortuga was in the Caribbean. At the mention of pirates, her fingers dug into the seat as anger colored her features.

Norrington recoiled at the umbrage in Julia's voice, hoping that she was unable to see his physical reaction. The buildings they passed were a blur as she ranted about the appearance of pirates in Charles Towne and how the city was dangerous and immoral. That although people were required to attend church on Sunday, the other six days of the week gambling ran rampant and authorities turned a blind eye to prostitution. Norrington was grateful with the coach pulled up in front of Julia's home.

As Norrington quietly observed the outside of Julia's residence, he was struck at the sheer mass of the structure. While other homes in the area had a similar look to one another, the building before him was a hodge-podge of room additions tacked on to each other, as more space was needed.

The house was large and substantial, two stories high, with gables on each side. The entry door centered on the front of the house and a substantial chimney ran through the center of the building. Several one-story lean-tos were added over time, the unpainted shingled siding showing various degrees of weathering, resulting in a hodgepodge look. There were numerous windows, but all were small due to the fact that glass was scarce – even in England – and had to be shipped to the colonies. Ballast stones were utilized for the foundation and compromised one sidewall, although Norrington knew masonry was difficult in the colonies due to the lack of lime, which was the main ingredient in mortar. Under closer inspection, he saw that yellow clay and crushed oyster shells were used to cement the rocks into place and that different types of lumber revealed their additions to the building over time, like an archeological dig.

When Norrington commented on the interesting architecture of the house, Julia made a face and gave a cryptic answer about her husband having hated the look of the home. But Norrington loved the garbled together look of the building. Instead of looking stately, the house was warm, inviting, and unconventional.

Much like the building's mistress, Norrington thought.

After dismissing the driver of the wagon, Norrington allowed himself to be led though the front door of his ward's home. Taking a deep breath as he crossed the threshold, Norrington knew he was gawking as he took in his new surroundings. But he soon found himself pleasantly surprised at how familiar the home felt to him. Comfortably furnished and cozier than many other homes of similar circumstances, Norrington instantly felt at ease – a far cry from how he felt walking up to the house. Although Norrington would admit it to no one, lest of all himself, until he entered the building his nerves were crying out from tension. Not at all becoming of a former Navy Commodore.

The only room that looked out of place was the formal sitting room; instead, it looked more like a waiting area in a doctor's office. Although, considering what Julia's husband did for a living, it was not only understandable, but expected. A fireplace overtook one wall and a painting of the doctor hung over the mantle, a reminder to the waiting patients of what their doctor looked like. Smiling wryly, Norrington realized that there were still numerous residual reminders of Julia's previous husband, as if he would walk in at any moment.

_Previous? Where did that come from? That infers that she either has a current husband… or will soon have one, old man._

Norrington followed Julia through the lower level rooms of the house into the keeping room, where he then folded himself into a well-worn chair while waiting for a pot of coffee to brew. The room was warm and inviting, despite its massive proportions. His gaze flitted about the room. A large fireplace housed an iron crane from which S hooks hung, of which one suspended the coffeepot that was steeping their drink, as well as a spit and warming oven. Shelves lined the walls, overflowing with earthenware, woodenware and tin goods. In front of the window sat a behemoth loom and next to it, a spinning wheel. In the corner sat a butter churn, which made Norrington ruminated over how different his life was from his hostess'. He wondered how many good times were had in the room, how many bad times.

Julia smiled at him over the cup of coffee she was pouring for him, then proposed the bath, of which he finally agreed. And now, here he was, in rapidly cooling water that was originally not very warm, a pile of clothes belonging to a dead man on the floor beside him.

_How on earth did I go from thinking that Missus Ramage was a whore walking the docks to sitting naked in her bathtub? And why does this feel so damn comfortable? I should be feeling… awkward, but instead I feel a sense of… belonging._

Dunking his head under the water to rinse whatever soap might be remaining in his hair, Norrington involuntarily shuddered as the thought of Davy Jones and his crew came to mind. The water closing over his head reminded him of the near miss he had with spending a lifetime at the bottom of the sea. An eternity in the locker was worse than an eternity in hell – and at one moment in time, either were a distinct possibility. Thank God that he had pulled out of the headlong descent he had been not just been flirting with, but damned near married to. And while all the events that transpired seemed to have happened a lifetime ago, Norrington shrugged off the uneasiness that washed over him like the water in the tub. It was only residual anxiety from his doings in the past. He was not only living a new chapter in his life, but was in a whole new novel complete with not only new characters but a whole new plot.

He then realized just what it was that was missing from his life. Not a home, which would be nice. Not a family, which would be better. But rather, the mundane. Not in a bad way, but so much of his life was extraordinary… was fantastic. What was missing were little moments that other people took for granted. Little moments that meant so little to others made his heart ache when he was able to participate in such activities. A bath in somewhere other than a brothel, bathhouse or inn seemed incredibly… commonplace. And commonplace had no place in his life.

Until, possibly, this moment.

Surfacing from beneath the water's surface, Norrington decided that he needed to get back to his hostess. Not at all sure of how much time had elapsed, he was positive that his absence was bordering on rude. Rising out of the water, Norrington caught a glance of his image in the large looking glass leaning against the wall. He ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced at his reflection. Scars peppered his body. Battle wounds. Drunken brawls. _Gads, 'tis a wonder women have not gone screaming at the sight of you_.

Two years, give or take, since any woman had seen him in any sort of undress… had any sort of intimate contact with anyone of the fairer sex.

Two years since he gave up his attempt to plow through every piece of willing flesh in order to eradicate Elizabeth Swann from his heart. Norrington had lost track of how many women he had bedded and for how long he had been bedding them, but for the grace of God did he manage to escape catching any diseases from the women whose arms he fell into.

Such thoughts were not going to get him into his borrowed clothes any faster, but it would make it more difficult. It would seem such recollections were having an effect on a certain part of his anatomy. Sighing, Norrington grabbed a towel and began to dry off, pretending his obviously enthusiastic reaction – to exactly what, he did not know – did not exist.

Slipping on the dead man's pants, Norrington learned more about the man than he ever thought possible. Julia had to have been a good half a foot taller than her husband, as Norrington discovered he, himself, was at least a foot taller than the deceased doctor. Norrington was grateful that the good doctor was also a great deal thicker in the waist than he was, as the pants on hit him mid-calf rather than at the knee. After slipping the shirt over his head, Norrington pulled the suspender straps over his shoulders, adjusting the length of them, and then smoothed his hair back, wringing more water out of his tresses.

As soon as a clean pair of socks were donned, Norrington pulled on his boots, took a deep breath, and reentered the kitchen. When the latch clicked open, Julia spun around from the kitchen table where she had been setting up their supper. Assaulted by the delicious scents of warm bread and hot soup, Norrington causally leaned against the doorway and hoped that he did not wear the idiotic grin he so desperately tried to suppress. If there was a heaven, it would smell like Julia's kitchen and all the angels would look like her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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A/N: Another short chappie, but I'm trying to get this out before the movie so that way it can stay in cannon until At Worlds End says otherwise. ;) Again, thanks for reading!

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"Captain."

Spoken in a hushed tone, full of shyness, caution … and, possibly, hope. So much exposed, and held back, in that one word. Standing at the dining table, it was obvious that Julia was surprised to the captain. He had caught her in the middle of a song, her steps matching the tune, her skirt swirling about her ankles. Color stained her cheeks fetchingly, but Julia looked more eager than embarrassed.

"James. Please."

James pushed himself off the doorway and crossed the room. The table was set and Julia was busy lighting several lanterns. The bright sunlight of earlier in the day was rapidly diminishing as clouds rolled in, casting the keeping room into shadow. The table separated the two of them and James saw that the two words he uttered could not have surprised her more. The match she had struck to touch against the lantern wick burned unheeded until the flame danced close enough to her fingertips to bring her out of her shock. Quickly blowing the match out, Julia used the moment as an excuse to break eye contact with the man before her. At the look of uncertainty tingeing her features, he repeated in a hushed voice, "Please."

Julia stared at the man before her. A smile played at the corners of his mouth and his eyes danced with merriment as he leaned his weight on his hands, fingers splayed wide, on the tabletop. It was as if her acceptance were a challenge – and her refusal would signal that Captain Norrington had won whatever contest they were participating in. With a gentle smile and small bob of her head, Julia acquiesced. "James."

James smiled, feeling slightly superior because he pushed at Missus Ramage – and she yielded. However, the reply he was expecting, that he could call her by her Christian name, was not forthcoming. Instead, Julia opened a bottle of wine and while she was letting that breathe, set a pitcher of water on the table. James watched curiously, afraid to ask if he should help because Julia just might put him to work. When the bowl of chowder was placed before the seat at the head of the table, James stepped forward and grabbed to goblets for each of the beverages, setting them at each of the place settings.

"Thank you," Julia murmured. Wrapping the bread in a towel, she smiled at her dinner companion and nodded at the chair. James smiled in return, pulling the chair out for her to sit. Even in his silence, Julia found his persistence maddening.

Julia sighed. "Cap –… James… The seat at the head of the table is for the guest of honor. 'Tis yours." It took everything in her power not place her hand on her hips and tap her foot in exasperation. Julia knew the man was taxing, but this was her home, dammit! He ran his ship and she should be able to run her home as she saw fit.

James smirked, but held his ground. Secretly, he was pleased that she called him by his name, but still disappointed that she had not granted him permission to do the same. And for that, he would give no ground; Julia would sit where he saw fit. "Actually, Missus Ramage, the seat at the head of the table is deemed for the head of the household. By definition, that would be you. Now, please, sit so I can stop standing here like a fool."

Wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, Julia's gaze swept over the length of him, noting the pants hitting her guest mid-calf and both the shirt and pants hanging on her guest's leaner frame. His long hair, gleaming wet in the lantern light, was brushed back and tied in a queue with a clean length of ribbon. His cheeks were smooth, making him look more innocent, more human and less… authoritative. She felt their playing field had leveled somewhat and the thought scared her, so she dropped her gaze to the shirt he was wearing – and the open V showing a patch of chest.

Closing her eyes momentarily, she suppressed the urge to sigh. How on earth did she end up with a man who initially hated her on sight and was now wearing her dead husband's clothes while insisting she sit at the head of her kitchen table? Her life would be a whole lot less complicated and confusing if she had not opted to visit her sister. But what was done could not be undone and the consequences needed to be dealt with. And now, all she could think about was the exposed area of the captain's torso and the expanse of skin beneath the fabric.

_Idiot. Just because you are lonely does not mean you need act like a trollop. Feed him and then send him on his way. 'Tis as simple as that._

When Julia opened her eyes and smiled wanly at him, Norrington was unable to suppress a grin himself. He tapped the chair to encourage his hostess to sit. Her eyes rolling in vexation, Julia closed the distance between the two of them. "Fine, but only because I know we would be standing here until tomorrow if I did not agree and the soup will not taste as well when it is cold. So my agreement is completely self serving, I want you to know." As she gathered her skirts and lowered herself into the seat, Julia cheekily added, "'Tis nice to see someone who can use those clothes, although I see that they fit you poorly. I do apologize for that. But I want you to know, yet again, you are a difficult man to place kindness upon. Guests always take a place of honor in my home."

His eyes were merry as he ensconced himself in the chair to her left, although the phrasing of her words lingered on. …In my home. Did that mean priorities changed with the death of her husband? That her husband put himself before all others? Deciding that it was a mystery not worth investigating at the moment, James relished the fact that Julia yielded yet again. With a flourish, James snapped the napkin open and placed it on his lap. Silence fell over the two as they directed their attention to their appetites. James found he was pleasantly surprised with the seafood and corn chowder that Julia had concocted. The warm bread, the steaming soup, the excellent wine – the afternoon was just about his idea of perfection. The only thing missing…

_Stop thinking like that, old man. She's your hostess, not your consort – or even your wife. This is it for today. Food, conversation and then on your way._

When James shook his head, as if clearing thoughts from his mind, Julia set her soupspoon down and quietly asked, "What is it?" An odd feeling of paranoia crept its way down her back causing her to feel chills. Julia absently rubbed her arms as she waited for his reply.

Realizing that his actions were not only seen by Julia, but were in need of an explanation, James pushed his empty soup bowl away and rested his forearms on the tabletop. Locking gazes with Julia, he smiled, almost sheepishly, and explained.

"I am envious of your life." At the look of near horror washing over Julia's features, James amended. "I should rephrase for I know your life has been… difficult. But not once, in all the years I have been sailing, have I ever had the urge to set aside the ocean for a life on land. The sea was my calling, my passion. Of course, I have to admit, that there have been times of regret that I have not yet settled down, began a family. But there was never a time that the sea did not flow through my veins the same as my blood. And because of that, I felt like I would be split in my loyalty to my family and to my passion. However, now, here, I could easily see myself leaving the ocean, my ship, my life as I know it… for the stability of a home, a family, a… traditional life. I have been a guest in homes much grander and much more humble, but never, until now, did I miss what I did not have. While you may not see it, I think you are very luck indeed."

Dumbstruck at what James just revealed to her, Julia could not, would not, admit that the man before her was a stranger. No longer was he the captain of the ship who vexed her for the past week. Before her was a man. Not someone she whose services she was retaining to take her home. And without a category to shove him into any longer, Julia felt lost. For without parameters to define their relationship, she regarded her guest as dangerous. Not in a threatening way, but definitely as a worthy adversary. She should not let her guard down until he was gone.

Fighting to keep a serene smile on her lips so as to not betray her thoughts, Julia replied, "All the things that would seem like a tether around your neck before now seem… appealing? Maybe your wanderlust has been quenched. Maybe you have seen all you need to see and can finally pass along your information to a child or spouse or such. Or maybe you are just tired." Realizing that she was moving into territory that would soon prove uncomfortable, Julia opted to change the subject. Her brow rose in curiosity, then her eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "And if you keep calling me 'Missus Ramage,' I will go back to 'Captain Norrington.' When we met, I told you my name was Julia, but you insisted on calling me by my surname. Now I insist on you calling me Julia or… or…"

But as Julia realized how ridiculous her threat was becoming – because there was no threat – and the situation took on a feeling of… normalcy? Is this not what other people did? People who were friends? Dine, converse, enjoy each other's company? How long had it been since her life had been normal? The thought gave her pause and took her thoughts back to her childhood when everything had been carefree. A childhood that felt liked it belonged to someone else.

Watching Julia struggle to finish her thought, James smirked in amusement. "Or what?" He made a point of not using her Christian name. His voice lowered, quieted, traced along her skin. Teasing her felt foreign, for their relationship had been rocky – at best – from the beginning, but now not at all unpleasant. On the ship, her attitude was pure confidence, even if it was all bravado. Here in her home, Julia looked even more fragile than she did the entire time the Amphritrite sailed to Charles Towne. And her vulnerability was very, very appealing.

Julia dropped her gaze to her plate and shook her head in amusement. When she looked up, her face was alive in delight. "Or nothing! It seems my threats are as empty as your bowl. Would you like some more?" She laughed right along with her guest.

Shaking his head in the negative, James said, "Nay. And not because I would not like more, but because there is none. Once you served yourself, I took liberties as your guest. The tureen is empty. But I am full, although your bread is delicious and I shall certainly help myself to another slice. Shall I cut you one also?"

Julia hesitated a moment before answering. Despite thinking that her guest was dangerous, there was no denying that he seemed more relaxed – younger even – in her home. The boyishness was surprising, but not at all unappreciated. She could admit to herself that her guest was an extremely handsome man. Piercing eyes, strong jaw, lean yet muscular build. In fact, if circumstances were different, then Julia knew that she would…

_I would what? Flirt? Flirt more? Be more at ease? Bah. If I were to see him for the first time at a ball or party, I know my heart would accelerate and I would do what I could to insinuate myself into whatever conversation he was participating in. Ah, another lifetime then. Finish up the meal and get him out the door._

Sliding out of her seat, Julia began to gather the empty dishes and set them to the side. "No, I am full. But thank you. You eat; I shall clear the table. Then shall we retire to the parlor?"


	19. Chapter 19

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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A/N: You all have been very patient little poppets...

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James had to admit that he was a trifle confused when his hostess offered to continue his stay. He had planned on having another slice of bread, allowing himself another glass of wine and then planned on heading back to the ship and his men. James had already stayed longer than he had intended and he was sure that his men would be beginning to wonder about his absence. But if Julia wanted him to stay, then as a gentleman he could hardly refuse her request.

Gathering his plate and wineglass, James followed Julia out of the gathering room into the parlor. To call the room formal was a bit of a stretch, as the parlor was filled with overstuffed furniture and overflowing bookcases. Besides, there was the sitting room upon entry into the home, which acted as a waiting area for the good doctor's patients. James mused that if the Ramages needed to stand on ceremony, the sitting room could act as a formal parlor.

Allowing his thoughts to refocus on his current surroundings, James eyed the grand piano before a large window, a surprising large casement considering how precious glass was. The instrument looked more at home in a concert hall than a drawing room in a doctor's home. Absently, James ran his fingers across a few of the ivories as he followed Julia to a settee, the notes reverberating through the room.

A smile was on his lips as he nodded towards the baby grand. "Quite an impressive instrument. Did you ever play?"

Julia wanted to scoff. Why else would someone own a piano? "I still do, if I feel the urge. And have the time. My parents spent a lot of years – and a lot of money – so that I would be a virtuoso. It was one of the few things that I did that my husband found… pleasant." There, that was nice and politic.

James mulled over the phrasing of his hostess' words and quirked an eyebrow upwards in curiosity. "So I take it you are talented?" When he had been an officer in the British Royal Navy, James had been paraded before many eligible young ladies in throughout England and Port Royal, Jamaica. And they all had one thing in common – overbearing mothers who thought their daughters could play the piano, despite the fact to the contrary.

It took everything in Julia's power not to roll her eyes. Instead, she stood and crossed the room under the pretense of checking the skies. While the chowder had been simmering, Julia had noticed that the sky was turning overcast and gray to the west, indicating an incoming storm.

Turning away from the window, Julia smiled tightly, as if her thoughts were split between her guest and some other location. "Quite. I care not for braggarts, but I am about to become one. If I had been born a male, I would be playing with a symphony somewhere in Europe, commanding outrages prices for my appearances. But, instead, I played recitals in drawing rooms for friends and family." Julia paused, then added, "And when my husband said it would soothe him after a difficult day." Julia shrugged. "I do not play it often enough, but put a blindfold on me and I can pluck out a tune."

James smirked and asked, "Then would you?"

Sighing, Julia realizing too late that her statement would be twisted back onto itself by her guest. Pursing her lips, Julia took the few steps from the window to the piano and plucked out a lively but simple tune, finishing with a flourish. Feeling especially saucy, she then slid onto the bench, closed her eyes and let her fingers glide across the ivories, just as surprised as her guest by the tune that emerged. A funeral dirge that Julia composed for her husband the night she learned of his death.

Unable to think an appropriate response, James downed the rest of his wineglass in one gulp. Once the liquid hit his stomach, the blood in his veins roared with heat. Nothing profound sprung forward, but an acknowledgement came forth. "That was beautiful. Who was that?"

Julia sat quietly, head bent in repose, her eyes still closed. A quiet chuckle, completely devoid of mirth, was her immediate response. "'Twas me. It was the only thing I could think of to give my husband as a thank you for all he did for me after I heard of his passing."

James cupped his chin in hand, his elbow on his knee, stunned that something so… eloquent could be created by the women before him. The woman who had vexed him for so long. The woman who was becoming less and less irritating as time went on. "'Tis beautiful. But from how you have spoken, I did not think that… he would inspire… I did not think your husband would be so deserving of such… tribute. From what you have implied…"

Julia surged off the piano bench, anger fueling her launch. Unsure of whether to rage in her guest's face or to storm out of the room, she opted for neither. Pacing before the fireplace, she replied in a voice so quiet that James was unsure if she was talking to him or herself. "He gave me respectability. He gave me an envious standing in the community. He… he… gave… He did not beat me. Much. Even when I was unable to bear him children. I could not ask for more. A dirge was the least I could do for him. The absolute least."

Knowing he was bating her, James was unable to resist. Dryly, he replied, "Some would ask for love."

With a short bark of a laugh, Julia pushed herself away from the mantle, then crossed the room back to her guest. Sinking onto the settee next to James, she realized too late that her proximity to the captain was inappropriate. She should have sat on the couch opposite the loveseat. _Too late now. Just make a fuss over your tea and that might deflect some of the impropriety._ "Remember, I thought I had that once… and my world came crashing down around me. I am not so foolish as to think one needs love in their marriage in order for it to be successful. In fact, love might confuse the arrangement. When I remarry, it shall be for security and nothing more."

Julia watched his eyebrow ride upwards and covered her smile by taking a sip of long cold tea, but nearly choked on it when James demanded, "Remarry? Whatever for? As a widow, you are afforded many freedoms that other women would find envious."

Indignant, Julia set her teacup down on its saucer so violently that it clattered. "The same freedoms that many men take for granted. Actually, such freedoms most men would find stifling or even barbaric. But my freedoms are expensive to upkeep and working as a midwife in a town not densely populated with pregnant women is not particularly profitable. As soon as I am out of mourning, I shall have to look into finding a husband."

Quickly running his tongue along the inside of his lower lip in an attempt to get his thought process flowing, James found Julia's words curious. Not until the mention of making port did she show any signs of being in mourning. "During the course of your passage, I do not recall you wearing the mourning dress that you have on now. Or any other mourning dress. And has it not been long enough to be in mourning for a man you did not love?" He knew his words were inflammatory, but the idea of Julia looking to remarry suddenly filled him with panic. And the feeling was quite irritating to James.

Julia's nostrils flared white in anger. What she wore – and when she wore it – was no concern of the captain's. Taking a deep breath in order to swallow back a retort, Julia willed herself to be civil. _The man is a guest in your home and shall be accorded certain… margins. Do not forget the diversion the two of you have been having of late._ "Well, not that it is any of your concern, but the heat of the Caribbean was too sweltering for the wearing of black. I started the trip with many more dresses than I left with. And, I had hoped to remain independent for a lot longer than it looks like I will be able. Mourning kept prospective suitors at bay."

Having faced fearless pirates and numerous battles, James was heartily ashamed of himself – but helpless as well – when a feeling of dread coursed through his veins. It was not so much the idea that Julia was being pragmatic and thinking in financial terms, but that another man would be taking her to bed every night. The idea of another man having privileges with Julia caused James' stomach to lurch, despite his initial assessment that she laid with any man for a coin. "When do you think you shall…?" James faltered. "When do you think your period of mourning will end?"

The tone of his words, the near anguish in what he asked, startled Julia. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Was this not the same man who treated her like a pariah upon first meeting? Suddenly, the room seemed very small and the proximity of her knee to his was entirely too close. Julia had to concentrate on the timing of her breathing lest she hyperventilate. Not looking at the man sitting next to her, Julia absently picked up her teacup and stumbled over her words. "I mean not to be rude, truly I do not, but why do you ask? What business is it of yours?"

"Absolutely none," James purred, glad to see Julia uncomfortable. His concern was quickly dissipating with the appearance of Julia's confusion. "However, you are the only woman I know who has slid in and out of her period of mourning according to the weather conditions." Seeing how she was getting angry again, James put his hands up in mock surrender. "I am overstepping my boundaries as a guest in your home – I am fully aware of my impropriety. I just find you an enigma and am doing my damnedest to figure you out. Please, take that as a compliment rather than an insult. Despite my initial opinions of you when we met, I have known you to be unlike any other female – nay like anyone at all – I have ever met. I also mean that as a compliment, so do not think I am being facetious. But I would be remiss if I did not comment that I hope you do not marry rashly. I have no right to offer such advice, but I offer it regardless."

Julia was grateful that a lightening flash illuminated the room, allowing her to look away from her guest, but the resulting boom from the thunder that immediately followed caused her to rise from her seat. Oblivious to the possible danger, she drifted to the window and focused on a tree branch scratching against the house. The sky was darker than any night Julia could recall in the Caribbean, but the continued lightening cast her skin in a glow. Thunder rattled the house again, causing pictures to thump against the walls and earthenware to clink against each other on their shelves. Julia shivered in anxiety and rubbed her arms, trying to will away the goose bumps that appeared on her skin.

"The storm… I do not recall such ferocity in such a very long time," Julia said as she paced before the window. Rain pelted the glass and the fierce wind beat at everything in its path with ruthless cruelty. Julia inwardly cringed, but was unable to look away from the weather outside her window.

James was silent as he followed his hostess to the large window overlooking the harbor. In truth, he was afraid that if the storm shattered the glass, Julia would find herself cut to a thousand pieces. What he could do if his concern came to fruition, James did not know, but the closer he was to her, the more her could do. And faster. Also, it was as if an invisible leash tethered him to her side. If asked, James knew he would deny it, but he felt as helpless as a devoted pup following its master.

"Maybe 'tis the storm that we survived finally catching up with us." His voice was hushed, as if he were speaking to himself.

A thunderclap broke, the noise deafening. Startled, Julia took a step back from the window and bumped into James, who, instinctively, placed a hand on her waist to help her keep her balance.

Julia looked down at his hand; the physical contact radiated heat through the fabric of her skirt. Moments passed, and yet he did not remove his fingers; the act of his hand holding her was so intimate and yet so comforting. Her heart beat so fast that Julia was breathless in anticipation that it would burst forth from her chest and take flight. She then turned and looked up into his eyes, unasked questions dancing across her features. Gone was the cold aloofness in the green depths she had come to know. Instead, the detachment was replaced with warmth and compassion. She smiled and he returned her grin with a shy one of his own.

That smile of his. When it appeared, it warmed her to the depth of her core. Unable to help herself, her gaze left his eyes and settled on his lips. And then very unladylike thoughts entered her mind. Her breathing increased even more.

Feeling her cheeks burn, she allowed herself to again glance up into his eyes to see if he had noticed.

He had. But like a rabbit frozen in the path of a hunter, Julia was unable to look away and instead of continuing to feel embarrassed, she felt the rising panic dissipate and wash away. The look on his face was pure calm and Julia clung to his radiating tranquility.

His eyes now asked his own silent question. And instead of being surprised or apprehensive, Julia felt calm. Nodding her head slightly, she watched as he lowered his mouth to hers.


	20. Chapter 20

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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**A/N**: Slowly escalating towards the 'M' rating... Okay, not so slowly. ;-)

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James felt the change in her almost immediately. At first, her kiss was hesitant, unsure. Frozen in his arms, thrumming with tension, Julia soon melted to liquid energy as she responded to his touch. What started as a gentle, feather light brushing of his lips against hers deepened into full exploration of the contours of her mouth. His tongue explored the seam of her lips, attempting to coax her closed lips open. His teeth grazed her upper lip. His left hand came up to caress the curvature of her cheekbone, his thumb brushing the corner of her lips. He then cupped her chin in his hand, stroking his thumb up and down the length of her jaw, sending shivers up and down her spine. Not breaking their kiss, Julia turned her cheek into his palm and smiled against James' lips.

A groan came from deep within her throat and parted her full, hungry lips. Instinctively, he thrust his tongue into her mouth and the heat of James' lips seemed to spill down Julia's throat. As he explored the velvety recesses of her mouth as though it belonged to him, James felt such an overwhelming desire to be inside her…in every way possible.

But when his tongue slipped past her lips, Julia broke away, turning her head to the side and pressing against James' chest with her palms spread wide. Her eyes were widened in panic and her heart pounded so hard, so loud, that Julia was convinced that it would explode at any moment.

James' brow furrowed in confusion and concern. His right arm held snug around her waist but his left hand gravitated from her cheek to the base of Julia's skull where his thumb rubbed circles on the nape of her neck. "What is wrong?" She was strung tighter than before; James was afraid he would snap her in two.

Shaking her head, Julia attempted to pull out of his arms, but James held fast. "I… I cannot breathe." Julia was not about to admit that the last time she had been kissed in such a manner was when she was but a girl and engaged to Cutler Beckett. But it had felt completely different before. Then, even kissing him had made her feel sullied and slightly queasy. Now, it scared Julia how right being in James' arms truly felt.

It took everything in his power not to laugh. "That is half the point. The other half…" His voice was low and husky, laden with intimacy. His hand gazed her jaw line. Then, suddenly, James looked around in sudden confusion, as if the reality of the situation suddenly hit him, also. "I mean not to be rude, but do you not have any servants for your household?"

Shocked by the abrupt change of subject, Julia felt a nervous giggle escape past her lips. Hating herself for acting like a lovesick schoolgirl, she swallowed hard, fighting back her laughter. But his question brought some much-needed levity to the situation. "I felt that they deserved a break, too, while I was gone. Both are still here in town, I presume, for William – my butler and stable boy – promised to care for my animals in my absence. And although Mary lives with me, her sister married well. So while I was absent, I was not in need of Mary's services for there were no household duties to assist with. Tomorrow I shall let them know that I have returned."

Relief washed over his features as James pulled the good Missus Ramage up against him, wrapping his arms around her lower back, drawing her closer, holding her steady… and himself. "Good. So that means that we will not be interrupted." He leaned down and closed the distance between their mouths, grateful that Julia lost her balance and fell against him.

When his lips touched hers, James felt that the previous convergence had just been a dress rehearsal. When Julia timidly returned the kiss – after a moment's hesitation – she soon was responding with the same fervor as James, he began to kiss her deeply… hot and demanding. She responded in kind until James was unsure of who was ravishing whom. No longer were the kisses gentle or tender. The kisses escalated in their aggression as their arousal increased.

Julia soon felt her knees weaken and was certain that she would collapse to the floor if it was not for James' arm firmly encircling her waist. But that was not the only part of her that felt like jelly and the feeling was new and unexpected – and quite lovely. The heat radiating between the meeting of her legs screamed to be quenched. The realization that she was now feeling stirrings that had never once materialized in her previous encounters with her husband sent a wave of wooziness through Julia. As Julia stumbled, James' arms tightened around her waist.

The room spun away as her arms wrapped around James' neck. Not caring how wanton it appeared, Julia pressed herself against the length of him. But no matter how tightly she pressed, Julia could not get close enough.

James was grateful that his weight rested against the wall behind him. It had been so long since he had felt a woman's touch and even longer if he took into account not having to spend coin in order to enjoy their pleasures. He was breathing with great difficulty, panting almost, because his need for Julia was so great. But James knew that he had taken enough liberties as it was and needed to end their encounter before he could not stop himself. With an anguished groan, he tore his mouth away from Julia's, panting from the exertion of doing so.

He could not look Julia in the eyes for fear that he would pull her to the floor and couple with her like some wild beast. Because James turned his head away, he was unable to see the hurt in her eyes. It nearly shattered him into a million pieces when she asked, "What did I do wrong?"

A deep sigh was his immediate response. He then looked her straight in the eyes, his gaze completely unwavering. "Absolutely nothing. It is I who is in the wrong; I have taken unforgivable liberties against your person and if I do not stop now, there will be no stopping at all." His veins felt like they were coursing with liquid fire.

"I do not understand." The anguish in her voice made James' heart twist.

James groaned aloud in want. In need. His heart pounded hard and fast, almost in time with the throbbing of his loins. He dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Julia, if we continue I cannot be held accountable for my actions. I could not live with that on my conscience." His voice was thick and rough.

It suddenly dawned on her that the captain was now concerned with her virtue and that realization almost caused her to stagger. Out of all the thoughts that crossed his mind since they first met, now was the time he was concerned!

Julia took his left hand and placed it in the hollow of her back, liking the way it fit into the curve. She then brushed the hair away from his neck and as she stood on her tiptoes, softly, gently, placed a kiss against James' collarbone. She then kissed her way across the hollow of his throat, pausing to gently lick, then nip, against James' pulse point. Each tantalizing movement of her mouth sent warm shivers surging through him. James buried his hands in her hair; his efforts to stop Julia were half hearted.

"No." The word was a ragged whisper. The physical need in James was so strong that it nearly dropped him to his knees.

"Yes." Julia smiled as she pulled the captain's head down to hers. She then stood on her tiptoes and let her lips brush his suggestively. Her kiss was feather light, reminding James of the warm Caribbean wind caressing his skin on dark lonely nights. His good intentions spiraled away, orbiting out of control. James clung to her desperately.

"Yes," she whispered again, the single word coming out as a moan, her lips curving into a smile against James' lips, thrilled with all her being when he returned her kiss.

She tilted her head back to give James further access to her mouth, opening her lips to accept his delving tongue. As his kisses became more demanding, Julia slipped her arms around his neck and allowed her fingers to tug the ribbon out of his hair and then tunnel their way through his tresses. James moaned low in his throat in appreciation.

As his tongue slid past her lips, Julia groaned in approval. The stroking motion of his tongue, coupled with his fingers winding through her hair, left Julia panting with desire. His command of her lips would alternate between soft and gentle, then switch to hot and demanding. In his desire, James claimed Julia's mouth as his own… as if he had every right to pillage her mouth. And Julia was helpless to do anything but respond to James' advances.

Julia clung to his shoulders, the muscles beneath her fingers constantly flexing. She had a moment of lucidity and marveled at how smooth but hard his shoulders felt in comparison to the plushness of his lips and the velvet texture of his tongue.

Dizzy, Julia dropped her hands to James' forearms. Desire swirled though her as pleasure overwhelmed her senses. However, Julia knew that they would be kissing in her parlor until the end of time if she did not make a decision and knew it would be to her to nudge their actions along. She let her hands slip off his forearms to James' hips. Feeling her hands shake in anticipation and fear, Julia slowly drug her fingertips across the front of his pants.

James hissed as the sensation overrode all rational thought. He drew back to allow more room for Julia to maneuver, cupping Julia's face in his hands. Her hair hung in a curtain around her face, perfectly framing her features. Her eyes bled to black in desire, her chest heaving in pure, unadulterated lust.

Unable to bear any longer the sensations her wandering fingers caused, James then crushed Julia against himself, his hands roaming over her curves. Caressing Julia from every possible angle, James locked his hips against hers, his desire more than evident. His lips left a searing trail as he kissed his way down her neck, unbuttoning the neck of her dress to expose more skin, sending delicious pleasures over her body.

Julia pressed back, her need for the captain overriding all thought. Not caring that she was acting like a cat in heat, Julia rubbed herself along the length of him, needing to feel James' muscular length against her. She was unable to stop what she was feeling or her reactions to the captain's touch.

Sighing in pleasure, Julia broke the kiss, a saucy smile curving her lips. Placing her index finger against his lips, Julia silenced James' immediate question. She laughed as he playfully nipped at her fingertip. Taking his hand in hers, Julia laced their fingers together, binding James to her and turned, leading him up the stairs.

Realizing where she was leading him, James stopped Julia in her tracks and in one quick swoop, he picked her up in his arms and carried her effortlessly, as if she were a rag doll, up the stairway. When they reached the door to her chambers, James pushed it open with his foot. He crossed the room in quick strides, stopping when his leg bumped the corner of the bed.

Almost reverently, he deposited Julia on the huge bed. Dust floated upwards from weeks of disuse, causing moments of sneezing and giggling. Once she settled back against the pillows, James looked down at her for a long moment, before brushing a stray tendril of hair off her cheek. He then sat down next to her hip and kissed her forehead, then her eyelids.

James whispered, "Are you sure?"

Julia looked up at James with unfocused eyes. Her mouth was half open, her lips bruised and swollen, soft and inviting. Her chest rose and fell with each intake of breath. James had to reach hard to find the gentleman lurking behind the libertine, so he took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, trying hard to recenter his thoughts… and failing miserably. The emotions that were dancing across his face melted Julia's heart and caused her to grab two handfuls of his shirt, pulling the captain against her and whispered against his lips, "Please."

It was all that James needed. Cradling her jaw, he tilted up her face so he could look deeper into those incredible eyes. His lips covered hers in a tender kiss.

With his weight resting upon her, Julia closed her eyes in bliss, spirals of light swirling against the back of her eyelids. For the first time ever, Julia was looking forward to allowing a man liberties with her person. She reached for the bottom of James' shirt and began to tug it up over his head.


	21. Chapter 21

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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**A/N**: Thank you! Thank you! Thank you for your positive comments! Decidedly an 'M' chapter, to be sure.

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For what seemed like an eternity Julia watched as James slept next to her, slack-jawed and innocent as he dreamed. Every few moments, he would twitch and murmur, a conversation in his head that Julia hoped was peaceful. Unable to resist the urge, her knuckles grazed the smooth line of his forehead, then traced the length of his cheekbone. He let out a contented sigh and turned into her caress, her palm cupping his cheek.

Julia knew that within moments, he would awake and the occasion would be lost. But until then, she intended to cherish the last fleeting minutes James would spend in slumber. For with the beginning of a new day came a new chapter to their lives – and the story was not guaranteed to have a happy ending. But for all the days of her life, Julia would cherish the events that transpired of the course of the previous evening. In fact, her heart swelled at the contentment she felt and savored the feeling of joy that overwhelmed her emotions.

Julia turned away from the man sharing her bed and stared at the dark beams in the ceiling for a long while. Hearing the incessant rain hitting the window, Julia turned her head and looked out the rain-streaked window. Trees bending, swaying, dancing, in the wind left shadows on the wall as lightening flashed and illuminated the dark sky. Focusing on the sound of his breathing and banishing the idea of a new day, Julia felt her lips curve into a smirk as she relived the previous night's events.

o.o.o.o.o

Julia lay back against the pillows, James leaning over her, winding his fingers through her hair, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. These were the actions of a seducer, not the man Julia felt that she had come to know over the course of a week. But as her hand closed over his, Julia had never felt so safe in all her life. _Safe. What an odd choice of words for someone acting so wanton._

James' lips hovered right above hers as he whispered, "I said before that there would be no turning back, but I shall give you one last chance to back out. Do… do you wish to stop?" His cheeks had looked clean-shaven earlier but his whiskers were rough against her skin, a fact of which she was not cognizant earlier, but his mouth was so soft, so smooth.

Julia's lips parted slightly and her breath became choppy. James' hand on her waist felt as if it were burning a hole through her skin. An overwhelming desire to grab his hand and drag it up to her breast caused her to momentarily forget his question, but as he gently drug his lips across her own, Julia shook her head in the negative, breathing, "I have no such wish for you to stop."

James swallowed hard and sighed in relief. "Good, because damn if I would know how to stop right now. I promise you this – I have wanted no one like I want you now. And another promise – once we start, there will be no stopping until the dawn." He surged forward, his lips burning against hers, full of wicked promise of what was to come.

James' hand slid down from her throat to trace his fingers over the swells of her breasts through the fabric of her gown. As the kiss deepened and his exploration of her breasts became more thorough, Julia felt the evidence of his arousal against her thigh and a spasm began to build deep within her, causing her entire body to feel as if it was on fire. Her body screamed for her clothes to come off, for contact of her skin against his. She wanted to feel him pressed against her, needed to feel him enter her. But that desire scared her, causing a hitch in her breathing.

James broke the kiss and scanned her face, concern and passion fighting for position in his eyes. "Are you…? Are you frightened, Julia?" James whispered as he kissed the side of her neck. He hated asking the question, for if she was not, he was only planting an unneeded seed of doubt. But there was no denying that there was a tension to her body that had not been there a few moments ago.

"Yes." The word was barely audible.

James drew back, concern furrowing his brow. "But why?"

Swallowing hard, Julia tried to smile through her unease. "Because I… do not wish to disappoint you. I… I have never before felt like this, never acted like this. I had heard…" Julia paused, not sure of how to best express herself. She tried again. "I was not a shrew – do not think I am saying that – but I had read about, heard about, desire. I never knew it existed. I really just thought it was a fairy tale. Until now. I mean, I was not oblivious to a handsome man who crossed my path. Or immune to the charms of an attractive man flattering me as we danced across a ballroom. But no matter what, I always felt cold inside. Whereas now, I feel like I am about to burst into flame. I feel… I feel like I am misrepresenting myself. Like someone else is reacting to your… attentions."

James wanted to cup her cheeks and kiss her gently. Her words nearly broke his heart, but it also strengthened his resolve to show her what it was like to be truly appreciated by a man. "I think that for the first time in a very long time you are finally free to show who you really are. And even if we were to stop right now, there is no way you would disappoint me. I thank you for this gift." James then let his lips capture Julia's, pouring into that kiss just how much he desired her.

Uncertainty still swam through her eyes, but she was grateful that James was unable to notice for she did not want the sensations coursing through her to stop.

Gently encouraging Julia to sit up, James's fingers made quick work of the buttons trailing down the back of her dress. Once the dress was open to the waist and free of her arms, he worked on the hooks of her corset until the only thing between his hands and her skin was the flimsy material of her chemise.

Unable to help himself, James's hands slid upwards over the fabric to her breasts, where her hardened nipples were a shadow beneath the thin, white fabric. His hand spread, hugging the mound, caressing it gently, yet persistently.

Wanting nothing more than to pull up Julia's skirts, James had to temper himself not to burrow inside of her. But he also wanted to savor the moment. Wanted to make the night last forever. An since it had been nearly two years since he had enjoyed the company of a woman, there would be no way he could last that long. So, instead, he wanted to give Julia as much pleasure as he could before taking his own.

He untied her chemise, then tugged it down off her shoulders. Julia sat up slightly, helping James strip her to the waist. Lying back on the bed, Julia looked down at her breasts, rising and falling with each heaving breath, tipped by hardened nipples, eager for James' touch.

James kissed her throat, his fingers pinching one of her nipples between his fingers, eliciting a soft moan. His mouth roamed lower until his lips captured her other peak, suckling it, then flicking his tongue over the tip. The sensation caused her breathing to quicken and the heat between her legs to swell. Julia wanted to grab his hand as it traveled lower, but she allowed James to encourage her hips upward, as he tugged her garments down her legs one handed. It was slow going until Julia caught on and used her own hands to help. Soon, Julia was laid bare before him.

James felt his breath catch in his throat as he looked down at her body. Her breasts rose and fell in apprehension and she modestly crossed one leg over the other. Her embarrassment was endearing – and very enticing. He could not help but pause and admire the lines of her body, as if she were a work of art. The small swelling of her breasts, the plateau of her belly flanked by the curves of her hips, the muscular tone of her legs. James swallowed hard.

To cover his momentary loss of composure, James returned his attentions to her abandoned chest. Julia trembled beneath his ministrations, but amid the pleasure the captain inflicted, she as able to recognize that there was no trembling of James; his actions, his person, were sure and true. His hand once again traveled lower, across the plane of her abdomen, until it paused at the juncture of her thighs. He waited for her breathing to resume before parting her legs slightly. Then his fingers slid past her folds, resting against her core, causing her breath to shorten and grow jagged. When Julia did not push his hand away, James slid his hand up and down, reveling in the sounds emitting from his partner. Faster and faster his fingers slid, all the while he was sucking and nipping at her breast.

She let out quiet moans of pleasure, as if unsure of her reactions but helpless to stop them. He hated the analogy, but teasing her was like playing an instrument. Slowly, almost achingly so, he pulled the orgasm from her, thrilled at the knowledge that he was the first one to give her such pleasure. When her body finally gave in, Julia let out a long, guttural moan that was the sweetest melody James had ever heard. The scent of her desire floated through the air.

"What was that?" Julia asked when rational thought returned to her.

James chuckled low in his throat. "That, my dear, was pure, unadulterated pleasure. And you will be experiencing more of that before the night is over." And with that promise, James grabbed handfuls of her hair, crushing her lips against his.

James groaned aloud, breaking their kiss as he panted against her jaw line, when her fingers trailed up his torso, his shirt pooling in her fingers as more and more of his skin was exposed. Through the thin fabric of the shirt, Julia could feel his muscles flex and contract beneath her hands. Heat radiated off of him, sending Julia into a frenzy. Her hands slid up his back, clawing at his shoulders as she tried to pull herself through him. If he did not give himself some relief soon, James knew that he end before even getting a chance to begin, like some inept schoolboy before his first woman.

James resumed kissing her swollen lips and divested himself of his shirt in one swift motion. He then pulled away from her completely, rising from the bed and quickly shedding his pants, standing before her tall and proud. A long, pale scar ran from his abdomen to the top of his right shoulder. Other scars peppered his body; testaments to a life lived hard. Julia sat up, rolling forward onto her knees, and planted a row of kisses along the line of the silvery blemish on his otherwise tanned skin.

Although her lips felt like cool water against his searing hot skin, James wanted to push her head down to kiss him lower. But not wanting to scare her, James raised her hand to his lips and kissed the palm, nipping gently, eliciting a playful squeal from Julia. Then, his eyes locked with Julia's, he directed her hand down to his sex. He clasped his hand above hers, encouraging her familiarity with the fullness and depth of his hunger for her. "This," he paused for emphasis, "is what you do to me. What no other woman has been able to do for a very long time."

Julia felt her breath catch in her chest. He was more beautiful than she thought possible. Dark hair lightly furred his chest and abdomen, trailing down to a nest of curls and the shaft that pointed upwards, nearly touching his bellybutton. Feeling color stain her cheeks for staring, Julia looked at James through the fringe of her eyelashes. He looked neither embarrassed nor amused; hunger smoldered in his eyes as her hand glided over his hardness. Suddenly, she felt cool and composed. The uncertainty that had lingered up to that point suddenly dissipated. Releasing him, Julia fell back against the bed, a mischievous smile beckoning James to join her.


	22. Chapter 22

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

* * *

James crawled onto the bed, his body hovering over Julia's before nudging her knees apart and sinking himself within the juncture of her thighs. Despite knowing that she was no maiden, James was tender, almost reverent, as he entered her. Others liked breaking through virgin barriers, but James disliked knowing his passion caused pain. So he was overjoyed when he slid into Julia and she hissed in pleasure rather than whimpered in pain. James had to be careful that he not explode immediately for she was like a warm velvet glove around him, tighter than any other he could remember being with. Once James was fully embedded inside Julia, he buried his face in the ocean of her hair, relishing the moment.

James then began to tentatively slide out, then push back in. Letting him pick a slow, gentle pace, Julia lifted her hips to meet his. James' chest rested against her breasts and Julia was able to feel his heartbeat... his breath and hers in sync. It was like a dance between the two of them and she moved to his rhythm. Time dissolved as they went on and on, one flowing into the other until neither began or ended. Julia wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling James in deeper, wanting him to drown inside of her. As his thrusts accelerated, James ground himself deeper into Julia.

James felt the sudden tightening and then a jerk, the rush overwhelming him. "God's teeth!" He exploded, spilling forth in an unending release, unlike any he had ever experienced. A liquid heat roared through his veins and fireworks of all colors swirled before his closed eyelids as James collapsed upon Julia, burying his face in the hollow of her shoulder.

When they finally returned to normalcy, both lay on their sides, limbs intertwined, staring at each other. James tucked a stray lock behind her ear, smiling at the look of satisfaction that softened her features. In all the times he had been with a woman, none looked as sated as Julia. And for that, he was proud. But, James reflected, he was sure he wore the same look. Then a wicked smile curved his lips and he whispered, "Again," before rolling Julia onto her back.

Julia blushed hard and shook her head to clear the images from her head. She was suddenly back in the present, the consequences of the previous night's activities crashing down upon her. It was true that James made her body react with such desire she had never felt in all of her life but Julia could not believe how reckless she had acted.

_How the Bloody Hell did I get myself into this… this… this situation? _

Sighing, Julia stretched languidly, wincing as the dull aches protested in areas she did not even know existed until that morning, and looked out the window. The rain had ceased and the fuzzy rays of dawn were creeping above the horizon, casting the room into a soft glow. Sometime during the night – or morning – the quilt had been kicked from the bed and now only a worn sheet was the only thing providing Julia any sense of modesty. _As if there is a reason for decorum at this point in time._

Julia rolled onto her side to better look at the captain next to her. In retrospect, Julia did not regret the events of the previous night – and morning – but there was no way it could ever happen again. As soon as he awoke, Julia would send James on his way and soon after, he would be but a pleasant memory. Unable to explain the twisting of her belly and the sudden hitch in her breath, she reached out, tentatively at first, and brushed a lock of hair back from his face, letting his fingers linger longer than was necessary. _Do not make this more than it is._ When James began to stir, Julia pulled her hand back, apprehensive to his reaction to her in the morning light.

Shifting, stretching, arching, James slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight sneaking into the room. Momentarily confused, James looked around the room, trying to get his bearings. When his gaze settled on Julia, a content, dreamy expression appeared on his face. Running his hand through his disheveled hair, James blinked sleepily, his lips curving into a content grin. Julia gave half-hearted smile back in return.

"Good morning." Julia's voice was barely whisper.

Still waking up, James pushed himself up and folded the pillow in half behind his head, his eyes dancing merrily. "Aye. That it is. That it is." James pulled Julia against him, reveling in the feel of her naked skin against his own. In the early morning light, her skin was luminous, as if lit from within. It took everything in his power not to take her once again.

Feeling shy, Julia looked down at the sheet covering them, readjusting the fabric and picking at imaginary lint, pretending that James's arms were not wrapped around her. "Sleep well?"

James had to consciously stop himself from furrowing his brow in confusion. After last night, he thought that he and Julia had crossed over to a new level in their relationship, but although he was still waking up, James could feel a coolness in his bed partner. He wet his lips before replying. "The few hours we were not… otherwise engaged, yes. Like a babe. I think it was due to you sleeping next to me." James' tangled his fingers through Julia's thick mane of hair, sighing against the tresses.

Julia relaxed against James slightly; the warmth of his body was intoxicating, causing her own body to react against her will. "And it had nothing to do with the fact that we were, as you put it, engaged almost all night long?" Julia was not feeling brave enough to look James full in the eyes, but she was able to turn on her side so she could better curl up against him. Her hand lightly rested on his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.

James laughed, his hand enveloping Julia's. "Fair enough. I cannot argue, although we both know I have tried many times in the past. And you? Were you able to dream?"

It was Julia's turn to wet her lips and James followed the path of her tongue with rapt attention. When her gaze flicked upward from their entwined hands to James' face, there was a sparkle in her eye that caused James' heart to skip a beat. He squeezed her hand a little harder. "A little. I did not have much time to dream, as you well know, but I did get some sleep. Thank you."

"Good." A wicked gleam glinted in his eyes. He dipped down and brushed his lips against hers. Almost instinctively, Julia responded, but then checked herself once she recognized her actions. But James let his hand return to her hair, holding Julia in place, refusing to let her break away. Helpless but to continue, Julia returned his kiss and whatever drowsiness that had lingered quickly dissipated and evolved into passion.

Julia felt his desire growing as well and smiled against James's mouth. "You are quite… hungry this morning, are you not Captain Norrington? Were your… appetites not sated last night?"

Chuckling, James rose above her and nuzzled her ear as he nudged her thighs apart with his knee. "When one has a… receptive partner such a you, it is not possible to refuse seconds… thirds… sevenths. Besides," James purred, "I would like to have one more memorable experience before I will not get the chance again."

Julia averted her eyes to hide the hurt his words caused, letting her lips curved into a wry smile. "Again? Of course you will again – and soon. After your business this afternoon, you could find any willing girl down by the wharf to warm your bed for this evening. And after your… attention to detail last night, I can bet you will not have to part with any coin to do so." Her hands pressed against his chest slightly, preventing him from getting any closer.

James paused, silent a moment, his eyes searching her face. He then rolled to Julia's side in a fluid motion. "I will not be warming anyone else's bed. Do you think that after last night, I would turn to anyone else?" Hurt etched his words.

The stark bluntness of his words caused Julia to hesitate briefly before responding. "I am afraid that I do not understand. What on Earth do you mean?" _Bugger it all, what the Hell is going on?_

Fighting the urge to laugh, lest he cry in frustration, James ran a hand over his face to cover his smile. Propping his head on his hand as he lay on his side next to Julia, James rested his weight on his elbow. "I was not aware that my words were confusing. Shall I rephrase?"

Julia mulled his words over for a long moment, trying to absorb what he said and figure out just what that meant. "What…?" Her brow furrowed and her nose wrinkled in confusion. Julia then sighed heavily, trying to formulate her words. Attempting to articulate herself once again, Julia said, "James… James, I just do not understand. A week ago, you accused me of being a whore and then, slowly, over the course of the voyage, we finally moved to a more neutral ground, although the previous sentiment was not forgotten. At least on my end."

Sniffling slightly, Julia looked away briefly, trying to fight back tears that were threatening to appear. She could tell that James wanted to speak, but he waited patiently for her to finish her train of thought. Filling her lungs with a deep gulp of air, Julia continued.

"I suppose I just expected you to push me away this morning. After the accusations, I expected that you would be disgusted with me. But instead of pushing me away, you wish pull me even closer. I…" Julia struggled to express herself. "I am confused. Plain and simple."

When she was answered with silence, Julia gently disentangled herself from James' arms and pushed herself so that she was sitting upright, refusing to make eye contact. The room was suddenly crushing down on her and she wanted nothing more to throw open the bedroom window, letting fresh air roll into the room. When she started to swing her legs off the bed, James grabbed her wrist.

"Do not go Julia. I meant not to hurt you… anger you. In fact, I quite meant the exact opposite." He gently pulled Julia back down next to him, settling her head back into his shoulder. Once she was arranged in his arms, James ran the side of his finger along her jaw line, silently studying Julia. She waited silently for him to continue.

It took everything in his power to not shake the teeth out of her head. While he could not explain his feelings her, as they were in the process of being formulated and thus were completely new and foreign to him, James did know that he wanted to explore this new dynamic of their friendship. Even if he had to keep his clothes on from this point forward.

His silence was deafening. But when Julia stirred restlessly, James blurted out, "Julia, I did not come here with the intention of seducing you. Please believe me when I say that. I truly wanted to make sure that you arrived home safely. And yes, I enjoyed your company and maybe, deep down, I was looking for an excuse to extend our time together. I felt like I was just getting to know you and the more I learned, the more I wanted to learn."

James paused, his eyes searching her face for some sort of agreement in her features, but her face was intentionally blank. Setting his shoulders, he pretended an acknowledgement from Julia. "And then when you stood by the window when the thunder shook the whole house, I was terrified that the glass would shatter, cutting you. So I went to your side. To protect you, I suppose. But then it felt right to not only take you in my arms to shelter you from the storm, but to… kiss you." James shrugged sheepishly. "I have to say, that it was one of my better decisions."

When Julia scoffed, James saw his advantage and rushed to shatter her argument. "I know that the turn of events last night was unexpected, but it was quite… fortuitous for me. And not because of the enjoyment I – and you – received. I… I had a bad taste in my mouth towards most women after my engagement was broken. She was… independent and headstrong, two qualities that I would use to describe you. So that immediate parallel put you at a disadvantage with me. But during the storm, it occurred to me that if I had asked, you would have helped. And in any way possible. I did not mean to dismiss you and send you away; I just did not have a task for you and did not want you to be in harm's way. When I sent you to seek shelter from the storm, I knew that you were not the selfish, manipulative wench that she was. Is." James paused, his mind racing ahead of his words. "I ask for no more than you can give, but since you will be ending your period of mourning in a few months…"

"What?" The question was practically a wail. Confusion overrode all cognizant thought, leaving Julia floundering for something to understand.

Taking a deep breath, James could hardly believe the words that he was speaking. "I… I would like to see you again. You cannot deny that there is passion between us. I think that worth exploring further, do you not agree?"

_Of course he would! So he could pleasure himself when it pleased him…_

"I will not be your whore!" Julia's eyes raged with blue fire.


	23. Chapter 23

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

* * *

James' eyes widened with astonishment when Julia's accusation sunk in. How on Earth did she make the jump from a simple request to call on her in the near future to a scarlet woman? Was she not coming out of mourning soon? Did he hear her wrong earlier? Well, if one thing had not changed in the time James had met her, it was that Julia could exasperating. He put a hand up in appeasement. "I am not asking that–."

Wanting nothing more than to push the infernal man out of her bed, Julia pressed her lips together until a white line formed while she formulated the right words. Julia could not believe what he was proposing. She would not be anyone's kept woman; no matter how much pleasure the man could give. She interrupted him. "Nor your mistress!"

Her anger flared his own. "Did you not hear what I asked? You are twisting my words into something far more ugly than what I said!" _By God, she is an infernal woman. Why is she pushing me away? I mean… Bloody Hell! She is pushing me away like I pushed her away when we met._

"I do not care what you said! I know what you meant, what you want. I…" Julia was so angry that her vocabulary abandoned her completely, reducing her to venting her frustration by grabbing a pillow and lobbing it across the room.

Her indignation wounded James far worse than if she had physically struck him. She refused to hear what he was asking and was twisting his words beyond recognition. "Julia." The sadness in his voice nearly caused Julia's heart to break.

The one word was enough to halt Julia's tirade in its tracks. Oh God! This was so much worse. It never dawned on her that James would have developed feelings for her and wanted to make things proper between them. Shaking her head in the negative, Julia suppressed the urge to groan and instead smiled sadly. There would be no happy ending in their future, for she had already lost her heart to one man who stomped it to pieces and she had already lost one husband to the sea.

Her fingers itched to smooth the tension out of his brow, but knew it would be her undoing and balled her hand into a fist, her fingernails digging into her palm. "James, you do not know what you want. Last night is all a-tumble in your head." Julia was not willing to admit that the sudden realization had left her head all a-tumble. She turned away so that James was in no part of her line of vision.

Frustration running through his veins, James grabbed her shoulder, forcing Julia to turn back and meet his gaze. His words were clipped, but soft. "No. It is not. My head, my heart… Everything is suddenly very clear. I do not want this to be all… all that we have between us. I ask for nothing more than you can give, but I think you can give more than you are considering."

Julia worried her upper lip between her teeth, unsure of how to correct the mess she made of things. But such notions had to be squelched before they developed further… "Please, do not make this how we part ways. I am very fond of you. I would even wish to call you a friend…"

James ducked his head in an attempt to hide the hurt in his eyes. His voice was raw when he replied, "After last night, I would like to think that also myself. But it is not I who is making this how we part ways. I want nothing more than to whisper tender words in your ear while I take you again. Now. Later. Always."

Julia ignored the hurt in her voice, ignored his sweet words, lest she falter in her convictions. "But I will not let our friendship develop further. I already lost one husband to pirates. I will not be with anyone who could put me in that position again. James… if circumstances were different, I would say yes. That I would love to see you in a more proper manner. But I am not strong enough to send out to sea another husband only to have him not return. This is what it is – two lonely people who have affection for one another and who were able to excise some demons from the past. Please, I do not mean to hurt you, but do not make me mourn you."

James was silent. Despite his stoic nature, he was truly a romantic at heart. Knowing that – and having his heart returned to him more than once – James always kept his emotions closely guarded. But somehow, Julia managed to get under his skin, causing him to reveal more than James ever intended. Nothing left to do but surrender to her wishes. "Julie, I understand your feelings. I do not necessarily agree with them, but you need to protect yourself and your interests – and I respect that."

No one had called her Julie since she was a small girl. All the hurt that she had felt in her short life came crashing down upon her. Drawing her knees up, Julia clasped her arms around her legs and quietly cried. Unsure of whether to gather her into his arms or to give her privacy, James instead pushed himself up into a full sitting position and waited to see if Julia banished him from the bedroom or acknowledged him in any way.

He did not have to wait long for his answer.

Lifting her head up from her knees, Julia cast James a glance before looking away in embarrassment. "I have made a royal mess of things, have I not?" She then sniffled and a hand arced up to brush away unshed tears.

If there was one thing in the world James did not understand, it was the emotional complexities of women. He decided to tread softly and keep his words neutral. "Julia… A lot has happened in the past day. Of course you are overwhelmed."

Julia scoffed, then looked at James, her lips curved into a rueful smile. "You are more kind than I deserve. I… My thoughts have been as disheveled as my hair is this morning. I have so much to thank you for. And I suppose I should start by thanking you for giving me the best night of my life. I know I sound trite by saying this, but no one has ever made me the center of their attention. Ever."

James looked at the woman sitting next to him, undraped and comfortable in her nakedness. Or maybe she was unaware that the sheet lay pooled at her feet. But he, for one, was grateful that the sheet still covered part of his anatomy. He drew a leg up so the sheet would drape and cover the evidence of his gratitude.

"C'mere," James beckoned Julia over into the enclosure of his arms. With a slight hesitation, she scooted over and allowed James to swallow her into a hug. Julia's head rested against his chest and James rocked her gently, whispering soothing words against the crown of her head, his fingers absently running through her hair.

"The last time anyone called me Julie, I was seventeen. Let me explain that my father was the only one who ever called me that. But he stopped the night Cutler brought to his attention… my indiscretions. That is why I cried – remembering a life that was less complicated."

Her words surprised him and it took James a moment to formulate and appropriate response. "I meant not to make your life more complicated. My question was meant to be more innocent than it has turned out to be. But, I would like very much to call you something other than what others call you also. Something private. Between us. If Julie makes you sad, I shall think of something else. Unless you would rather me not."

Julia looked up at James. From her vantage point, he looked very protective and tender. A brow was quirked upwards in curiosity, waiting for a reply. Julia snuggled against him further, relishing the warmth of his body and the warmth of his words. "What are you thinking?"

Now that he was expected to come up with an appropriate nickname, James knew had to think fast. "Hmm… well, let me think on this. I need to come up with something that is indicative of your personality… It cannot be embarrassing to you if I accidentally slip and call you the name in a public situation. Give me a moment to mull this over." James absently rubbed her arm up and down as he silently racked his brain.

The silence gave Julia a much-needed moment to gather her thoughts. The man in whose arms she laid was not proposing that they engage in such activities on a regular basis. Or even again. Nor was he proposing marriage. James just wanted to see her again. When she was not in mourning. And the period of grief that she had cloistered herself in was a surprise to the captain that she sprung on him at the last possible moment of the voyage. How could she refuse such a simple request? The truth of the matter was there was no guarantee that he would even make it back to Charles Towne any time in the near future. So acquiescing to his request might just prove to be a moot point. But the sentiment was flattering.

James interrupted her thoughts with the declaration, "I have settled upon Jewel. Although I do think that I might accidentally slip and call you Julie from time to time, so I apologize in advance." James looked positively charming as he smiled shyly, while also looked extremely pleased with himself.

Pushing herself up so that she was better able to look at James, Julia smiled. "I think that I shall be satisfied with either name. But you shall be leaving soon and I will end my mourning period for several months. It would be inappropriate for me to see you until then. You do have a lot of time to ponder what you shall call me, you know."

James' lips curved into a bemused smile. His hands went behind his head and he looked quite smug. "Ah, but I can write you letters, can I not? Besides, you never did answer my initial question. So you are being rather presumptuous."

Opening her mouth to fire off a quick retort, Julia then reconsidered and instead nodded her head. Snaking her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make herself look a bit more presentable, Julia took a deep breath and asked, "All this because you asked to… call on me once I have… finished my period of mourning. Is that right?"

The laughter that rolled out of James filled the room. "Yes."

Laughing right along with him, Julia shook her head in amusement. "Then how can I refuse such a simple request? After all you were the first to ask. Although, after my tantrum, I daresay that you might want to reconsider."

James rubbed his fingers along his chin, pretending to give weight to Julia's statement. "Well, I might have reconsidered if I were not to be the envy of every man in Charles Towne. So understand, that now my reasons are completely self serving." The twinkle in his eye took some of the bite out of James' words.

Rolling her eyes in the most unladylike manor, Julia smiled saucily, her cheek dimpling. "Since there are so few women in Charles Towne, I do not know if I should take that as a compliment or not."

The shock that registered on his face at the audacious statement Julia made quickly melded into amusement as James grabbed Julia and rolled her onto her back, eliciting squeals from his hostess. "You little vixen! Although… I suppose that is old news. Now," James purred, "where was I when you so rudely interrupted me earlier? Oh, I remember now…"

Julia put up no protest when his lips captured hers in a kiss.


	24. Chapter 24

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

* * *

**A/N**: No years listed as I don't claim enough knowledge of history to pinpoint when the movies took place. Also, I thank you in advance for your understanding in the structure of the letters. I tried very hard to keep them of the period while also putting in a more modern context. I am not entirely sure I succeeded.

* * *

Evening, August 15th  
Boston 

Dearest Jewel,

It has been many years since I have sat down and taken ink to paper for anything other than business transactions, so my communication skills are quite unpracticed. Please forgive me in advance for any impairments or errors I might make in this correspondence. And please forgive my atrocious handwriting – my tutor must surely be turning over in his grave at this scrawl that is masquerading as handwriting. 

That said, now, what do I say?

Well, I am sure you are curious as to why you are now the proud owner of a cat. His purpose on the ship was to keep the rodent population down to a minimum, at most, but since your departure, he has been useless. Please do not be angry, but the men and I were at our wit's end, as the cat did nothing but pine for you. Others might have disposed of him, but if such news reached your ears I knew you would have had my head – or worse. He has no name, for which I grievously apologize, so please, choose wisely.

At this juncture I must admit to a slight hesitation in knowing what else to say – knowing what else to write. But more so, I must confess to missing our daily conversations during this latest voyage. Well, what I call conversations, others might call discussions. Loud heated discussions, I know. But in their absence, I find my days a little less lively.

Once you and I parted ways, I made sure that the ship was able to set sail later that afternoon, lest I be tempted to see you again. Thankfully, the men had acquired a shipment to take to Boston and once we reached port there and disposed of the delivery, the men decided to head back to the Caribbean in the hopes of picking up another delivery – for we had just missed several opportunities to bid on several shipments by just minutes. Frustrated, we all wanted to go back to familiar territory. Boston is one of the much more impressive cities in the Colonies, but it is foreign to us in its newness.

We do have a passenger that will be traveling with us from Boston to Jamestown. Not quite as interesting as you and certainly not as engaging, but kind of heart and broad of knowledge nonetheless. Prior to his desire to see the world, he taught at a university back in England, mostly math courses. He and I chat daily, mostly about weather and current events, but his manor is dry and he is devoid of all humor and I am most pleased that he was never a teacher of mine in the past.

If I stop to think about what I have written – and what I am attempting to write – I stagger under the weight of knowledge that I have turned to you as my confidant. If you choose to tear my musings into tiny pieces, I would blame you not. But please, may I request you to drop me a line, to inform me that you have received my letter? And to grant permission that I may write you once again?

Think of me, sometimes, as I think of you. Which is quite fondly.

Your humble servant,  
James

P.s. Again, please excuse my inability to write legibly and, more than that, please forgive my forwardness in presuming that I might write so candidly. I just know of no other way to express myself around you.

* * *

Morning, September 20th  
Charles Towne 

Dear, dear James,

This letter is written in receipt of your correspondence.

The recent acquisition to my household is adjusting well to his new surroundings. He does not prowl or plead to be out-of-doors like most other cats; rather, he is my most constant companion. It is like I have two shadows in the afternoon hours. After searching my heart for an appropriate name for your former employee, I have decided upon calling him Triton.

However, if I find that the delivery was made with the _Amphitrite _docked in Charles Towne harbor and nary a visit from you, I shall be quite disappointed.

I have recently acquired into my employ another servant. She is the sister to my Molly and came across from England as an indentured servant. Many men look forward to the shipments of women coming into port so that they may buy themselves a bride. Worse than that can also happen to these women, so with that consideration, I retained Sarah's services into my household. I shall not enforce the indenture, but neither will I free her without some compensation. An answer will need to appear soon, but until that time she will have a roof over her head and a warm meal before on the table.

Because my financial limits are being stretched, I have taken to doctoring some of the local Indians. 'Tis a very troublesome situation. Our illnesses are new to them, despite their peoples being of a much hardier stock. It is difficult to treat for illnesses that we have all grown accustomed to, but all in all, the local peoples seem very appreciative of my efforts.

I also am dancing a fine line in the opinions of the community. If it were not for the help of the local peoples, then we would all suffer. But since they are so different than us, many of the townsfolk find them confusing. So the Indians are often misunderstood. Which makes for a very volatile situation that I would rather not participate in, but find little else that I can do.

I make no money off of my work, but rather work in trade – enough to keep my larder stocked. Turkey, venison, bear's oil. What I cannot use, I sell to others in order to keep my household fed, clothed and otherwise tended. The monies allow me to purchase overly priced goods shipped over from England. And while the prices are higher than I feel proper, without the goods being sent we would not exist. Certainly as a child in Cheshire, this is not what I imagined my life becoming.

I know I am being bold in saying this, but I, too, miss our conversations. In person, I would not feel that I was being so forward in speaking about such matters, but putting pen to paper causes me to feel more than a twinge of embarrassment for writing so freely.

And due to said discomfiture, I think I that I shall bring this letter to a close. If, after all of this, you care to continue in corresponding, I would be greatly indebted.

As always,  
Julia

* * *

Morning, October  
Barbados 

Sweet, sweet Jewel,

I scribble only a few words before I go to sleep in just a short while.

I know not even know what day it is, as we traveled with such haste. The ship flew along the waves as a bird on the air. We reached here at five o'clock this morning. After having the good luck of procuring another shipment of sugarcane – this time bound for St. Augustine – the men are all retired to a small inn and are tucked away in their beds – and I shall be turning in soon myself.

However, I could not resist sending you a gift I happened upon this morning.

It was Cicero who said – wrote? – that 'A room without books is like a body without a soul.' I have read this book at several junctures in my life and each time I come away with a different perspective or outlook of the world. I hope that you take interest in the writings, but short of that, I hope you get a little bit more insight to who I am. Chaucer is a favorite of mine and his poem, Troilus and Criseyde, has been explored by your Shakespeare, but not so well as dear ole Geoffrey. I sincerely hope that you enjoy the book as much as I have.

Shining Jewel, I have just been told that the mail coach is departing – therefore I must close at once so that I may post this letter.

But, my favorite Jewel, soon I shall see you, if only while I slumber.

Your obedient servant,  
J.

P.s. I sent your feline friend via another ship making way for Charles Towne, but only with the promise that he would have free reign – or nearly so – of the ship before the cat was delivered to your safe arms. Rest assured, I would not have been in Charles Towne and been able to resist calling on you.

* * *

October  
Charles Towne 

Sweet, sweet James,

I believe I am indebted to you by way of letter and while I have a few moments, I will write you a few lines.

I thank you for your kindness. Your gift was very unexpected and very appreciated. I feel overwhelmed with your generosity. However, the tome keeps me company in the night and resides under my pillow during the day.

This place affords little news – certainly nothing worth noting. Still more work than I ever thought possible when I was younger, but it makes the days slip by quickly and keeps me warm and fed.

Life is settling back into place around me. But I am not settling back into the same life I left, as I am not the same person. Most of my activities are the same, and most times I feel as if I am just going through the motions. Which is not to say that I begrudge or resent any aspect of my routine. Quite the opposite. I feel like I have a newfound appreciation for what the world can offer.

Ah James, I know not what to write. I wish not to give you false hope, but I also wish to pour forth into this letter all of my secrets. My wants. My hopes. I suppose I should just chalk it up to loneliness, but I miss having someone to care for. I reread your letters over and over many more times than I should admit.

I cannot believe I just wrote that.

And here I am, trying not to make improper impressions in my expression of feelings, only to spill words onto paper that directly contradict what I had intended. But unless I ball this letter up and toss it into the fire – or across the room for Triton to play with – I cannot undo what was already been written. So do I plunge forth and continue with my fancies? Do I tell you that I sometimes wake in the middle of the night and reread your letter a few times? Or that your correspondence has given me more happiness than I ever gained from a letter? I thank you for the time you take to write me.

I should change the subject.

The weather is turning colder and despite the harsh winds, I find myself growing weary of staying indoors. So, in the free time that I do not have, I find myself changing my travels so that I might see the sea before I go home for the night. The smell of the salt spray, the waves breaking against the shore, the tide rising… Oh, I am so weary of the walls surrounding me in my home!

I shall be ending my period of mourning Twelfth Night. I do not know if your travels will bring you this way, but there will be a celebration at a neighbor's home that promises to be the fun that I need after this period of mourning. While I know such mirth will not be long lasting, as life will sneak back in and rear it's ugly head, a night of feasting and merriment is just what I need to feel like a person again – rather than this… this… this shell of a former member of society.

Please write me and tell me that I have not made a mess of things.

With Affection,  
Julia

* * *

Morning, November 16th  
St. Augustine 

Jewel,

What a splendid morning! I awoke to hear the church bells ringing out their joy, the sky an almost exact shade of blue as your eyes… and your letter slipped beneath my door.

Yesterday, after we arranged for the shipment to be unloaded and delivered, I found myself with some unexpected extra time on my hands. So I found myself wandering along the water's edge of a beach not far from the wharf.

Watching the water, with the crash of every wave awakening long forgotten reasons for taking to a life on the sea, I remembered bygone days, when life was straightforward and my only passion was the ocean. I sat and watched the water for quite some time and let those memories ebb and flow like the tides.

When I finally stood and made for my way to the inn, I must admit, as I walked the shore, with the crunch of seashells under my feet, I wished for you by my side.

Ah Jewel… I know that you wish to keep your heart closed. So I wished that for me also. I still do. And while I do not profess anything other than profound admiration for you, I must confess that I miss more than just our conversations. I miss the life I never knew I wanted, but realized, through you, that I did not have said life. And now I want that life.

Bugger. This correspondence was supposed to be light and nonsensical and such. How I went from such enthusiasm to such seriousness, so quickly, I do not know. Maybe it is because I have not felt so light-hearted in such a very long time.

Pardon the familiarity with which I write. When your epistle reached me, with all the candor and forthrightness that I have come to expect from you, I felt the need to answer it immediately, thus complying with your request to write soon. And yet it seems like I have forgotten how to converse in a proper manner.

My next voyage will indeed take me to Charles Towne, so I hope that our paths will cross – and often. But not in any official capacity until 12th Night. This I understand and respect – if you will still see me after reading this letter. You are truly kind if you would grant me the one request of your company for just a few moments at the party you so kindly make me privy to.

I must close for fear that if I do not, I will not get to send my letter off, as the post is due to go out at any moment.

Yr. Humble servant,  
J.

* * *

December  
Charles Towne  
Evening 

James,

A quick note. Please come to the celebration. We need to talk, for I am confused also. Writing letters, while certainly a day brightener to receive, is a difficult form to communicate feelings. Especially feelings that are… complex. So please – celebrate Twelfth Night in Charles Towne. If need be, I can provide you with directions. Just let me know.

Julia -- Jewel


	25. Chapter 25

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

* * *

Julia tried to still her shaking hands as she smoothed the necklace along her collarbone for the third time in a quarter hour's time, a nervous gesture designed more to calm Julia rather than perfect the chain. She had not heard back from James and was still unsure if he would make it to the party. The party where she would be reentering society after an unusually long period of mourning. And in a part of the world with a shortage of women, Julia realized that she would not leave the party without either having to accept a marriage proposal or needing to seriously entertain one.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Julia was pleased with the results of her primping. Biting her lips one more time in an attempt to make them more lush and red, she swallowed back a bad case of nerves. With a deep sigh, Julia threw back her shoulders and grimaced at her reflection in the looking glass. The recent acquisition of Sarah into her household was proving to be rather difficult financially, but no one could argue that the servant's abilities with hairstyles were beyond reproach. Before Julia stood, she turned her head and admired the swirling loops Sarah had pinned in a more intricate pattern than Julia could ever have managed – even with ten arms.

Blowing out the candles framing each side of her mirror, Julia felt as if a weight had settled heavily upon her shoulders. Widowhood had afforded her a way to postpone the inevitable – another chapter in her life that she had no control over. For nearly a year, Julia was able to make her own decisions and deal with the consequences of her actions.

Leaving her room, Julia realized that her house might be her home for very much longer and looked at belongings in a new light. While there was little sentimental value for the house and any of its contents, Julia surmised that soon she would be a belonging herself, owned by another.

It was just a matter of trying to find the best result for an unwanted situation.

o.o.o.o.o

Julia was unaware that a set of eyes never left her person from the moment she entered the home. She was watched from above, the figure leaning, almost rakishly, against the banister from the second floor. They rested their weight on their forearms and watched as Julia hugged and exchanged kisses to the cheek with the host and hostess before shrugging off her cloak to reveal a very flattering dove gray gown. And from her admirer's vantage point, it was not just the dress that was worth admiring, but also the neckline.

As Julia slipped into the heart of the party, the figure descended the staircase. Flashing a smile at the occasional fellow soiree attendant, Julia's shadow kept to the corners, waiting for the right moment to approach her. Until then, there was plenty of wassail to drink.

o.o.o.o.o

The sky was clear and the air cool as James rode up a long road to the home, a canopy of silvery gray Spanish moss hanging in loose tendrils above his head, swaying in the breeze. The moon was nearly full as it cast the land in a glow, filtered though the branches above. The faint sounds of music and laughter mixed with the soft croaking of frogs, the song of cicadas, and the rustling of the trees. He let his horse pick its own pace up the gravel and crushed seashell drive. After rounding a turn, light spilled forth from a massive edifice, like a beacon in the darkness.

The house was impressive, a majestic sprawling estate… that James wanted no part of. From the looks of the property, an army of slaves was needed to keep the plantation running. But James had to admit that the home was beautiful and the tree-lined drive awe-inspiring. _If only for a short while, try to forget that everything around you was built on the foundation of people's blood, sweat and tears._ Swinging off his horse and handing the reins to a waiting groomsman, James did his best to smile at the man, but, at most, his lips curved into a grimace.

James had not been to a Twelfth Night celebration in too many years to recount. The previous occasions consisted of much merriment provided through vast consumption of food and drink in an inane attempt to bid a fond farewell to festivities of the Christmas season before returning to the daily activities of the rest of winter.

From the sounds of laughter and music escaping from the windows, this party promised to be no less of a high-spirited affair than his previous soirees.

James checked his directions just to make sure he was at the right home. After all his years in the Royal Navy, he still found it surprisingly easy to get himself on the guest list to parties. After making a few inquiries, James soon found himself invited to the same party that Julia referenced in her last letter. As he walked into the residence, James was immediately struck by how lavish the home was decorated. Festive songs and general revelry assaulted his ears. But it was the scents of the night that would permeate his memories.

After ridding himself of his cloak into the hands of one of the ever-present servants, James maneuvered amongst the other guests and made his way to the food. Save for trays of hors devours being offered from every possible angle by another wave of ever-present servants, all the food was spread out in a buffet and the presentation was stunning. And while James had been to other parties where the display of the food was the primary entertainment, the hosts of this celebration had outdone themselves.

A culinary pageant, entrées and desserts had been created and were displayed like works of edible art, comparable to fine pieces in a gallery. From what James could tell, the foodstuff looked to be spicy or hot, as if an attempt to keep the cool of the evening away.

_'Tis a pity that the food will be consumed by everyone here. Seems almost a waste to eat such beautiful creations. However, I am not one to disappoint when someone has worked so hard in the kitchen…_

Grabbing a plate from the nearest stack, James picked a few items that neither smelled pungent nor looked too messy, for her did not want to drive Julia away before he had a chance to be reacquainted with her. After filling the plate some of the provisions, James took up position against a wall, waiting to see if Julia was amongst the crowd.

He did not have long to wait.

A rather frustrated looking Julia led a contingent of men to the buffet, each man tripping over himself to choose food items the object of their affection might find of interest. James nearly laughed aloud as five heaping plates were presented to Julia in unison, much to her chagrin. Even with other partygoers occasionally obscuring his view, James could see the agitation washing over Julia's features as if he were standing right next to her. With a sigh, she picked up an empty plate and took one item from each offered salver. The tight smile she bestowed upon each gentleman never reached her eyes.

Not sure if he reasons were completely self-serving due to a twinge of jealousy suddenly appearing or if he was saving Julia from the hopeful paramours that were vying for attention, but James decided to make his presence known and quietly slid up behind her.

A deep, purring, growl caressed her ear, sending shivers down Julia's spine. "You know, Twelfth Night evolved into what it is from the days of ancient Rome. The Roman Saturnalia was a festival marking the onset of the winter solstice. And you know how the Christians love to incorporate those pagan rituals into their practices…"

Startled, Julia instinctively stiffened, her back ramrod straight. Swallowing hard, it took everything in her power not to spin around and throw herself in James' arms. Fleetingly, she wondered if he could hear her pounding heart that threatened to burst forth from her chest and take flight. Instead, Julia took in a deep lungful of air and turned demurely, to see who had snuck up on her.

Julia had forgotten just how green his eyes were. They bore right through her as James studied even the minutest details of her features. She could not miss his lingering look at the flat of her stomach. _Is looking for any telltale signs of a pregnancy that never appeared?_ Blushing under the intensity of his gaze, Julia nonetheless smiled, a dimple appearing in her cheek. Why would not everyone just go away and give them some privacy? Why would James not speak? _Ah, because he spoke first, you silly twit!_

"James, what a surprise! What… what are you doing here?" Julia then shook her head, as if clearing thoughts or cobwebs from the far recesses of her mind. "Wait, please, there is no need to answer that. I asked for you to come. I suppose saying that I am happy you are here is pretty self-evident." The look on Julia's face was nearly gleeful and she practically vibrated with pent-up energy. But she did hand her plate to one of her admirers with the explanation, "I know you all will understand that I need to step away. James is an old, dear friend of mine. I have not seen him in far too long." She then tucked her hand into James' elbow and led him to the back veranda.

Gliding over the threshold and stepping onto the back porch, Julia sought a dark corner in which to converse. But she was not the only one with that idea, as several couples had already claimed the darkness for privacy. Privacy for acts that consisted of something other than verbal communication. Her cheeks took on a tinge of pink that was lost in the shadow of night, but a bemused grin curved her lips as she continued down the steps and made her way to the children's swing past the gardens. James followed silently at her side.

They passed the herb garden outside the kitchen and past the flower gardens; James was surprised at how well versed Julia was with the terrain of the property. Passing a small, family cemetery, enclosed with wooden picket fencing, James noted that there were already a few headstones in place. A sad commentary on the life of the colonists in the New World, as the property owners could not have lived there for more than a generation.

Arriving at the swing, Julia was relieved that no one else had the foresight to slip so far out into the darkness. Grasping the rope arms in each hand, Julia walked out a few paces, the seat resting against her belly, and listened to the night sounds. Music and laughter trailed after them, but thinned as the wind rustled in the trees and the crickets sang their songs. The night sky spilled all around them, stars twinkling like a sea of diamonds above them. Julia turned, twisting the arms of the swing behind her, unsure of what to say.

James' voice floated through the night, cutting through Julia's thoughts. "You know the property fairly well."

Julia ducked her head to hide a smile. It would be like James to cut to the chase. "Yes, I have done some doctoring for the slaves that live on this property. No one else will care for them and although I get nothing in return, the slaves have taught me much. Oh, the Winthrop's will pay me for my time, but only as if I was treating the family pets."

Julia watched as James slowly nodded his head. Then a weight of discomfiture blanketed them. Silence stretched out in the night between them until Julia was sure that they would snap in two from the tension. Julia wet her lips with the tip of her tongue as she attempted to articulate an appropriate comment, but James took care of initiating conversation, motioning to the swing. "Sit. If you like, I can push."

Julia shook her head in the negative at his offer, a genuine smile curving her lips. While not exactly how she had envisioned the first time she could be alone with James again, the reality of having James before her was better than any scenario Julia could dream of. "No. You are here. And while I would like nothing more than to act like a silly schoolgirl, swinging into the sky, trying to touch the moon with my toes, we should talk. I just know not where to begin."

James nodded his head, then smiled, the action not quite reaching his eyes. Clasping his hands behind his back lest he take Julia in his arms, James rocked back on his heels, as if contemplative. Nothing had ever been more nerve-wracking than this small talk they were spewing – not even the quiet prior to battle – for he had so much he needed to tell Julia, but James had one comment that he could not keep bottled up. "I cannot hold this in any longer. Jewel, you look exquisite." Julia wore the same dress she was wearing the morning James found her brushing out her hair. However, the garment had been altered into the latest style and into a much deeper neckline. In the moonlight, the dress glowed silver. In the moonlight her alabaster skin glowed with a luminosity that made her look ethereal.

Feeling heat color her cheeks, Julia was grateful for the darkness. Ducking her head, she replied, "James… Thank you. You look…" Julia appraised the man before her, an eyebrow lifted in confusion at the man before her. "You look good. More than good. I…" He was similarly dressed as the day they made port in Nassau. Unlike the other men at the party, James did not wear a powdered wig and instead wore his natural hair tied back with a silk ribbon. Beneath his waistcoat was a white lawn shirt, brand new and French from the looks of it, with wide cuffs turned back, decorated with braid and ornate buttons. A cravat was jauntily tied at his throat. Breeches, embellished with the same trim as his shirt, slipped into the tops of his boots.

Looking at James made Julia's heart skip a beat, so she broke eye contact and slipped away from the swing and made her way to a bench that had been obscured from his vision by the darkness.

Bloody Hell, he was burning to pull her into his arms and then sink to her ground with her beneath him! He slowly trailed behind Julia, but when she was ensconced on the seat, with plenty of room for him to join Julia, James found himself unable to sit. To distract himself from his raging desires, James began to slowly pace.

The cold metal of the bench seeped through the fabric of her skirt, raising goosebumps on her arms. Absently rubbing her arms through the sleeves of her dress, Julia was startled when James' coat was placed on her shoulders. "Thank you. I thought tonight would be warmer." Without the coat, James looked more dashing, despite appearing less formal – and Julia could not stop the sudden intake of breath she needed. Nor the naked roaming of her gaze across his form. She only hoped the darkness would provide her some cover for acting so wanton.

James smiled. It was rather amusing at how they were holding each other at arms length despite wishing to do otherwise. And the gratitude that reflected in her eyes warmed him more than any coat would that evening. "I thought tonight would be cooler, so we even each other out."

Both waited for the other to continue the conversation and the silence stretched out into the darkness.

Expelling a frustrated sigh, James growled out, "Jewel, we are back to small talk. And this is near on killing me. I want nothing more than to ask what I can do to make you happy. But since that is not proper, I struggle to think of appropriate conversation." He pounded the side of his fist against the trunk of a tree to further emphasize his point.

Ah, they were getting back to familiar territory! Julia smirked up at the captain, a twinkle in her eye. "And since when have we been proper?"


	26. Chapter 26

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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"And what do you have in mind?" Unable to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice, James was more than a little taken aback at Julia's question, but was eager to hear her response. 

Julia sighed in mock exasperation, but was unable to suppress a smile. "Nothing salacious, so get that tone out of your voice. But I want to cut the small talk out and get to the heart of the matter. James, I have been asked by three different men tonight for my hand." Unable to make eye contact any longer, Julia wrapped her arms around herself and pressed against the bench back. A cool breeze pulled a tendril of hair loose and it danced along her cheek, but Julia was too preoccupied to notice.

But James did. And it took every ounce of energy not to close the distance between them and tuck the stray strand of hair behind Julia's ear. To sink onto the bench and wrap his arms around her, holding onto her forever. To tilt her head back and drink a kiss from her lips. Instead, he forced himself to focus on what Julia just said, despite the fear her words caused. James could feel his heart accelerating as his stomach rose to his throat. He wanted to punch his fist through the nearest object, but the sadness in Julia's voice kept his response in check. "Oh? And how did you reply?"

Julia wanted to rise from the bench and close the distance between them, to take James in her arms and smooth the concern from his furrowed brow. Instead, she clasped her hands before her and bestowed James with a sad smile as she carefully chose her words. "I told them each no." Her blue eyes were pools of compassion.

James hated himself for acting like some moon-eyed schoolboy around Julia. He had told himself repeatedly in the days preceding this reunion that he had to remain stoic, even aloof, when they would be able to have private conversation. But what he had been anticipating in his mind paled in comparison to having Julia within finger's reach. Not caring if she saw the relief washing over him, James let out a deep sigh. "May I inquire as to why? At the very least, I would have expected you to tell them that you would take their offer under consideration." He had to bite his bottom lip to keep from beaming.

The sad smile turned into a laugh, sounding like bells ringing through the night. "My, you do not mince words. Something I must admit I forgot during the passage of these past few months. James, are you that big of a fool? I told them all no." At the arching of his brow, Julia clarified, "Because they were not you." Julia emphasized her words by shaking her head gently.

Grateful that he was leaning against the tree trunk when his knees buckled, James struggled to keep his voice from wavering. "I suppose I am a fool, for I need you to explain to me what that means when you say that they are not me." While not as neutral as he had liked, James was pleased that his voice did not crackle with emotion.

Julia dropped her head in resignation. Closing her eyes and pressing her lips together, Julia wished she could change the course of the conversation. This was not how she had envisioned their reunion. She wanted to spy him across a crowded dancefloor, have the whole room melt away and meet the captain in the middle while the orchestra played on, happily ensconced in his arms. Instead, they were in the dark, hiding away from prying eyes, with over ten feet of space between them. "Oh James! I wish I knew. I do not know if I love you, but I know that I do not love them. Nor could I ever feel for them, the way I feel for you. If that is love, then I suppose you could say that I love you. At the very last, I feel a strong affinity for you. But… we barely know each other." Julia threw her hands up in the air in frustration and pressed her lips together until a white line formed.

James took a step closer, wanting to sink on the bench next to Julia and bury himself in her neck, his words a velvet whisper against her cheek. "Do you not know me better than you knew your husband prior to your marriage?" But if he closed the distance between them, Julia might bolt like a terrified jackrabbit, so he stilled his feet.

The words skated across her skin, raising goose bumps along her arms. Julia closed her eyes and bit the inside of her upper lip. With a sigh, she whispered, "Yes."

Unable to help himself, James closed the distance between them and kneeled before Julia, grasping her shoulders, forcing her to look into his emerald eyes. "Julia, no other words ever spoken to me have ever made me happier, but I refuse to goosestep around you any longer. If you have not figured it out by now, I shall be completely forthright with you – I am here for completely selfish reasons. I want to know what I can do to place myself at the top of your selection list."

Wanting nothing more than to press herself against the full length of James, Julia stepped back so that her lower back bumped against the porch railing. "Oh James! I told you that I would not marry anyone whose livelihood may be ended due to pirates."

James stood to his full height, peering at Julia down the length of his nose. "Then I shall give up the ocean."

Her draw dropping in awe, Julia tried to reel in her racing thoughts. _Is there the possibility that I misheard?_ "Repeat yourself, James Norrington, for I know I did not hear you correctly."

James sighed heavily, his chest rising and falling like the tides that were the source of his income. "I know that you do not wish to marry anyone associated with the sea. And I respect that. And after I left your home, I realized several things. First, that I like the idea of having a house to come home to; I never thought that I would want to be tethered to one spot. Secondly, that the wanderlust that has driven my life has dissipated; I have been lonely, yes, but not to the point of actively wooing anyone prior to this moment. And lastly, after all this time away, I miss you. I have made several inquiries into other vocations and have several offers, so please do not let that be a barrier. But before we discuss a new career path for myself, there is… information about me that you should know."

Overwhelmed by the amount of information James was presenting to her, Julia launched herself off the bench and grabbed James' arm, forcing him to turn and look her in the eyes. "What on earth are you talking about?"

James swallowed hard and looked over Julia's head, pretending to find something of interest in the distance. "I… I have a history that you need to know about."

Why would he not look at her? And what was with the hushed tone of confession? "James, I do not need to know about life before me. I find it irrelevant. I just think we need to discuss the fact that you are setting aside the livelihood you know and love. And I refuse to be the cause." Her hand rested on his upper arm in an attempt to calm her escort.

James snorted, but the chuckle was without mirth. "You might find it irrelevant, but I do not. I have thought about this since before I left your bedroom, so please, let me do this. I… I owe you several explanations, none of which I'm looking forward to…" He raked his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to slow the thoughts speeding through his mind. A growl of frustration followed on the heels of the gesture.

Julia's brow knitted together in confusion. The man before her looked so familiar, but his actions were that of a stranger. Rather than being the engaging man he had developed into during the voyage, it was as if James had regressed into the aloof captain she had retained on the Caribbean wharf. True, he could be very cryptic if he chose to be, but James was acting very unlike the man Julia had become accustomed to, causing her to worry. "What? What are you talking about?"

Bowing his head, as if the weight of keeping it upright were too much to bear, James sighed. He had spent all day rehearsing what he wished to say, but standing before Julia, all the practiced words had dissipated like the morning fog. "I… I was once a Commodore in the British Royal Navy–."

The world started to spin and Julia absently reached behind her, searching for the bench to sink into. Her hand brushed against the smooth wood of the bench back at the exact moment her knees buckled out from under her. An officer? Here she had presumed that he was a common sailor, married to the waters from the time he was in short pants. But to know that he… "You – you were what?"

James looked at the woman before him, wishing to smooth the concern marring her features. The proverbial cat was out of the bag and there was nowhere to go but the end of the story. He held his hand up to silence Julia. "Let me finish my tale. If you still want to speak to me after I finish, ask anything you like. I just cannot stop once I start. Please do not think I am being rude, but if you stop me I shall not be able to continue." When Julia silently nodded her head, James began. "So, once upon a long time ago, I was once a Commodore in the British Navy, stationed in Port Royal. I… was known for my abilities to… squash pirate activity in British controlled waters.

"One pirate in particular vexed me to the very being of my core. Plaguing my dreams and filling my days with planning. I chased Jack Sparrow across the seven seas and nearly caught him off the coast of Tripoli. I had him in my sights. But a hurricane caught my men and I by surprise. Coming out of nowhere and seemingly boring down right on us. It then became a fight for survival – one that we did not win. I lost too many men that day… and the survivors and I had to be rescued. I was humiliated at being caught so unprepared that I immediately resigned my commission."

_Jack Sparrow? He chased __**the**__ Captain Jack Sparrow? Of… what was it? The… Black… Gads, what was it? Pearl, was it not? That was it – The Black Pearl. _

"I then became a drunken shell of myself. The whole town of Tortuga became my watering hole. I sank so low and cared so little that I ended up joining the crew of the same Jack Sparrow I tried to capture. I suppose that one could call it a suicide mission; I had nothing left to lose so I thought that I might as well join the crew of the one pirate who bested me. By sheer fortune – or misfortune, if you will – I happened to join his crew when Sparrow was attempting to find the heart of Davy Jones." When Julia cocked her head in confusion, James clarified. "Yes. _The_ Davy Jones. And while I can claim no credit for helping Sparrow procure the infamous organ, I was with him when the heart was found. I stole it from Sparrow and delivered it into the hands of the East India Trading Company."

Julia could not help herself. The tale was well known of how the infamous Davy Jones was tamed once his disembodied heart was found and delivered into the hands of the East India Trading Company. "That was you?"

A wry laugh barked past his lips. "Ah, I see that you have heard the story. I just do not know if you realize the outcome now impacts you, as it was I who gave the heart of Davy Jones to Lord Cutler Beckett in exchange for a Letter of Marque. For Beckett had traveled to Port Royal with an arrest warrant for myself and two others – my ex-fiancée and her new fiancé – for abetting Sparrow's escape. If convicted, the sentence would have been execution.

"I knew not at the time that I was binding myself to him to carry out his evil intentions. I just thought it an honest trade, but then he offered to not only reinstate my commission but to promote me to Admiral. How could I refuse such generosity? Such naïveté on my part did not go unpunished. As a drunk, I was fueled by revenge. As a pawn in Beckett's drive for power, I had no free will of my own. I had sunk even lower."

It was suddenly very hard for Julia to breathe. The world suddenly began to spin. He knew… he knew Cutler? When she revealed what she had… with Cutler… James had not said anything. "You… you made a deal with the devil?"

James could not look Julia in the eyes. Could not look at the heartbreak that shone in their depths. Could not look at the confusion and accusation that twisted her features. Instead he pressed his cheek against the rough bark of the tree bearing his weight, the pain against his skin a physical reminder of the anguish Julia wore so openly. "In hindsight, I am not proud of such manipulation, but I would have sold my soul to Lucifer himself in order to get some of my respect back. And like all good intentions, it led me straight to Hell. I became worse off than when I started."

Julia was dumbstruck. Everyone in the known world had heard of the downfall of Davy Jones at the hands of the… Royal Navy. _Bloody Hell, that was James_. And the showdown with the pirates from all the seven seas… _Bloody Hell, that was James, too_. The Admiral sacrificing himself… _Was that James, too?_ The very idea of it all made Julia's head pound in an instantaneous headache.

_Wait! He said he had a fiancée…_

Rubbing her hand over her face in an attempt to wipe away some of the confusion, Julia squeezed her eyes shut. "Your former fiancée… What was your fiancée's name?"

James looked at Julia for several long moments before answering, his voice low and hushed. "Elizabeth. Elizabeth Swann."

Julia nodded her head dumbly, her pink tongue darting out and wetting her lips. When she finally spoke, it was more to herself than to James. "Governor Weatherby Swann's daughter." …who had become known world-wide for aiding Captain Jack Sparrow in his piracy, giving up the life of a pampered society debutante in order to sail under his command. Although there were rumors that she had tried to kill Sparrow, also.

"Yes." The word was barely even a whisper.

_So my fiancé and his fiancée **did** end up crossing paths…_

"I… I thought that you… I had heard that you… died… in the pirate showdown."

The muscles in his throat rippled as James swallowed hard. He glanced down at Julia and his heart melted at the anguish painting her features. "The rumors of my death are just that – rumors. I have no idea where they started, but I did hear about my demise also and was happy to have a cloak of… passing surrounding me. It made starting over that much easier. I resigned my commission a second time, for although I left initially with an honorable discharge and pension, my return to the Navy was always suspect due to Cutler's fingerprints all over my promotion." A wry smiled tugged at the corner of his lips.

Julia had to clench her fingers into a fist lest she smooth the hair at his temples, then pull him down into a kiss. Her fingernails cut half-moons into her skin and she welcomed the pain as a diversion from the headache swimming inside her head. "James Norrington, what has the world done to you?"

James closed his eyes in exhaustion and frustration. Those words had been uttered before, verbatim, with pity lacing the question. But the same words, spoken by Julia, were not spoken with pity, but wonderment… confusion. He was not sure if it hurt more or less when Julia expressed the sentiment.

Grabbing her hands in his, James half-lead, half-dragged Julia back to the bench, then sat next to her. "There is no proper response to your question, I know. And I am not telling you as a request for forgiveness. Nor I am not telling you as a form of catharsis." James struggled to articulate himself. "My sweet Julie… while I know that one good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness... meeting you… has provided me... with the promise of redemption. I am not the same person I was at the time of my appointment. But meeting you has made me want to be a better person. Made me strive to be a better person."

Not wanting to hurt him any more than her words would, Julia gently disentangled her hand from James'. She then picked at imaginary lint on her skirt as she formulated her words. She was not angry. And she was not even truly confused by the information she was trying to absorb. But she wanted some physical space between them to get some much-needed perspective. "James, I need some time alone right now. To absorb all that you have just told me."

Her words made him want to shatter into a million pieces. He knew that Julia was right, that she needed some time alone. But James had waited so long to see her that he was loathe to leave her side. "Julie…"

Sighing, Julia shook her head in an attempt to still his words. She then bestowed him with a tight, albeit gentle, smile. "James, I am not mad. I… I am just overwhelmed. I just want to sit here and take some air. I shall return to the party shortly. Besides, it would not look well if we left the party together and returned together after so long an absence."

James slid off the bench and squatted before Julia, grasping her shoulders. "Jewel…"

Julia turned her head away, unable to see the anguish swimming in his green eyes. "James, please. Just go back into the party. I shall join you in a moment. I just need… a little time to think."

As if considering her words, James hesitated a long moment before giving a short nod and then standing, making his way back to the house.

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**A/N**: Evil cliffie, I know. But there has to be SOME angst between them! Thanks for all your kind words and support! 


	27. Chapter 27

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

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**A/N**: Thank you once again for all your kind words. The end is in sight, so the next posting might be a bit delayed as I do a bit of final editing, so thank you for your patience in advance!

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_James was once a pirate. James once sailed with Captain Jack Sparrow, be it under duress or by choice. James handed the heart of Davy Jones into the hands of Cutler. Because of that, James was reinstated as a commissioned officer in the Royal Navy. James was a member of the Royal Navy who faced off against the last of the pirates. James was once engaged to Elizabeth Swann, daughter of Governor Weatherby Swann, who left her privileged life to sail under a pirate flag. James was not the man the man that I thought he was. But who is that exactly? _

_James…_

As Julia was trying to slow her racing thoughts, she rose from the bench and made her way back to the swing. Sitting on it, she grasped the rope and rested her chin on her hand, ruminating over the events of the last half hour or so, her toes tracing designs in the dirt. The captain was here, in Charles Towne, and offering to give up his life at sea. And while the thought of that was plenty of food for thought on its own, he had to go and spring this… monumental reveal on her. Julia closed her eyes and sighed.

Caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her head, Julia was unaware that steps crunched across fallen twigs, ending just a few feet behind her. The abrasive voice caught her off guard and caused her to launch out of the swing with a start.

"'Tis a fine evening, is it not? I can see why you are out here amongst the trees rather than inside, crushed in a sea of people. Although I am grateful that I can speak to you out here – alone – for every man wants nothing more than to find himself the sole target of a woman's attention."

Julia spun around, the voice familiar but not easily recognizable. Before her, too close, was Thaddeus Cobb, his forearm braced against the tree as he casually waited for Julia to respond.

"Cobb!" The amount of hatred she emoted in the single word surprised even Julia.

The white of his teeth gleamed in the moonlight, amusement painting his features. Pushing himself off the tree, he walked a wide arc around Julia, silently appraising her before responding. "I would prefer if you called me Thaddeus."

Julia backed away from the man circling her, her eyes never leaving his face. She was angry with herself for letting anyone sneak up on her and vowed to keep as much distance between the two of them as possible before she made a dash back to the house. "And I would prefer if you left me alone. And since we both know that will not happen…"

Cobb shook his head, stilling his movement, the smile still plastered to his face. "Tsk, tsk, Julia. You are reentering society after your period of mourning. You are out here. Alone. If anyone's motives were to be questioned, it would not be mine. Some might even say that you are asking for company…" His voice was low and menacing, full of the promise of danger. Goosebumps appeared on her arms and a shiver of fear raced down her spine.

But it would do no good, and quite a bit of harm, if she showed any bit of panic. So, instead, Julia attempted to appear nonchalant and bored. "And out of all the places in the world, may I inquire as to what brought you here?"

An eyebrow rose in amusement and the smile turned into a smug grin. Scratching the back of his neck, as if contemplating her question, Cobb wondered for a moment if it was worth the verbal dance they were participating in. But he then realized that the longer the pursuit, the sweeter the victory. "Is it not obvious? I wish to finish what we started before we were so rudely interrupted by the captain. You know, I watched you enter the party and it was all I could do to keep from bounding down the stairs and taking you then and there when you took off your cloak. I just wanted to keep taking your layers of clothing off, like layers of an onion." Cobb laced his fingers together, rotated his wrists and listened with satisfaction as the joints all crackled and popped.

Julia hoped that the color blanching from her face was not noticeable in the darkness. "An onion? How… poetic. And just how were you able to find me?" Julia made a point of ignoring the implied threat to her body. She also figured that if she were able to keep him talking, at some point she would be able to make a dash into the darkness and elude Cobb in the shadows of unfamiliar ground.

Cobb had to give the woman credit for staying cool under pressure. In that regard, he was almost disappointed in her lack of emotion. However, still water always ran deep. "The world is smaller than you think. Besides, you ask around enough, one is able to find information on just about anyone. You, surprisingly, were more complex than I gave you credit for. But easier than I thought to find. Although, how difficult is it to find a widow who just recently returned from Jamaica here in Charles Towne?" His massive shoulders rose and fell in a casual shrug.

Then, out of nowhere, Cobb made quick work of closing the distance between them. Julia back-stepped hastily, stopping only when a tree ended her retreat. Her hands instinctively scrambled over the rough bark, but she knew better than to make a run for it. So instead, she encircled a branch with her hand, prepared to rip it free from the tree to use as a weapon. Cobb reached out and fingered a loose tendril of her hair, his eyes never leaving her blue ones.

His breath was warm on her cheek. Julia could not help wincing from the contact, although she desperately hoped that in his anger her flinch went unnoticed by Cobb. "Are you mad?" Her voice wavered as the words came out in an anguished whisper and her blood turned to ice water as fear coursed through her body.

Cobb rubbed her hair between his fingers before leaning forward and smelling the strand. A smile ghosted across his lips as he contemplated an answer. Dropping her hair and slamming his hand past her head so that it landed on the tree trunk behind her left ear, Cobb leaned in so close that Julia was convinced that she could feel his whiskers against her skin. She involuntarily shuddered when he whispered, "At you? No. But you will bear the brunt of my anger." He was being intentionally obtuse, knowing she was questioning his sanity – or lack thereof.

Julia closed her eyes, afraid of asking, but having to know the answer. "Why me?" It was not as if she had never been forced to lay with a man against her will before – her husband had demanded bedding many times when Julia was either too exhausted or too ill. But Cobb would have no problem finding a willing bedmate, so why was he here?

Cobb laughed from deep within his belly. And as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared just as quickly. His voice was pure venom when he replied, "I bore ten lashes for touching you. You shall repay me for the blood I spilt. I am here to settle a debt." He had taken her as being smarter than this.

Before Julia could respond, a voice cut through the night, smooth, deep and silky – and brutal in its fury. "I think not."

Without thinking, Julia spun around to see James not more than an arm's width away, his hand resting on the hilt of his cutlass. Her heart leapt to her throat as her blood raced through her veins. To say that she had never been so happy to see anyone in her life would not begin to express her gratitude. "James!"

The joy in her voice and the light in her eyes warmed his bones. But in the time James made his presence known, Cobb had reached out and grabbed a hold of Julia, dragging her against his body and using her as a barrier between the two men.

A gasp rushed past Julia's lips as Cobb hissed, "Norrington, this does not concern you, but, yet again, you feel the need to interfere. This time, however, I have no need to listen to you. I highly suggest that you pretend that you saw nothing and go back to the party." Cobb's finger dug into her arms so painfully that Julia cried out, much to her dismay; she had wanted to appear more stoic and unconcerned.

Even in the darkness, Julia could see James' brow quirk upwards. A smirk twisted his lips. Not wanting to antagonize the man holding Julia as a cordon, James nonetheless refused to budge an inch. "And I highly suggest that you let go of Missus Ramage."

"Or what?"

The words hung in the darkness and Julia could not hold back a shudder. Why did she send James away? Why did she not even have a knife on her person like she normally did? Why did she not struggle? Why would her mind not slow down so that she could think of a way to get herself out of the mess she was in?

James wet his lips and shook his head. Clasping his hands behind his back, James turned away from Julia and Cobb, an attempt to lull Cobb into a false sense of security with the hopes that his grasp on Julia would loosen. However, his words were anything but casual. "Or… I shall finish what I began on the deck that afternoon. And only one of us will be walking Julia back to the house. And it shall not be you." James looked pointedly at the man holding Julia in his grip, refusing to let Cobb see the fear that was twisting his stomach into knots.

With more distance opening up between the two men, Cobb did indeed relax his grip on Julia's arms, but did not release her. "Is that a threat?"

Julia's body strummed with even more tension now that his grip had loosened, for she was just waiting for a chance to bolt. Swallowing hard, she mentally willed James to rescue her, but he seemed to be taking his own sweet time.

James stopped and looked at Cobb. If he could take the focus off of Julia and place it on himself, James knew he could best Cobb. But until Julia was out of that bastard's grip… "No. Not a threat. A promise." Grimly, he clenched his jaw, pure hatred burning in his emerald eyes.

Cobb's laugh traveled up and down her spine, sending out fingers of fear in a that circulated though her body in a continuous loop. "Then I shall take great pleasure in making you break that promise. And then I shall step over your broken body and have my way with this whore."

James' hand went back to his cutlass and he took a menacing step forward. "Over my dead body…"

"As I just said..." With a smile threatening to split his face in two, Cobb pushed Julia so hard that she stumbled and fell to the ground. By the time she was able to stand upright, both men were circling each other, waiting for the other to strike first.

With a roar, Cobb pulled his own sword and rushed forward like a wild man. James was furious with himself as he barely got his blade up in time as steel slid against steel. With a grunt, James pushed Cobb with all his might and watched with satisfaction as Cobb tripped over a root as he scrambled to stay upright.

James circled, keeping a full body length between the two of them, his sword extended toward Cobb's throat. His hand and arm were relaxed, unlike Cobb's, who held his sword much higher than was comfortable… or necessary. James wanted to thank the man but thought it would only incite Cobb further.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of such frivolous thoughts, James got himself back in the moment. Winning a fight was not only due to skill with the sword, but also complete concentration. He was lucky so far, but luck did not save your arm from a steel blade. _Where is he looking? Wherever he is looking, cover. This damn darkness makes seeing anything nigh on impossible. How is he standing? His shoulders are tensing, so wait, wait… there is the attack. _

James deflected a powerful swing aimed for his arm, but then counterstriked and kept Cobb under pressure by maintaining a barrage of blows that threatened to exhaust both of them quickly. James hoped that the pressure would be enough to cause a mistake on Cobb's part.

Sure enough, Cobb left himself open and James was able to draw blood on his opponent's arm, but Cobb, despite grimacing in pain, ignored the wound and fought on. But the injury did restrict Cobb's range of movement. However, James refused to let the fight consist of single thrusts and instead kept up a torrent of combination strikes. Even though it had been several years since he had to take up arms against another, James was pleased that his fighting was a smooth, flowing progression of movement.

James was also pleased that Cobb was beginning to look tired; sweat beaded on his opponent's forehead and his arm had a bit of a shake as the muscles screamed in protest. Then, the opening James was waiting for – Cobb stumbled. With a turn of his wrist, James was able to disarm Cobb. Cobb's sword arced through the air and landed several feet away as Cobb fell heavily.

James panted as he leaned over Cobb, his sword kissing the fallen man's throat. "Do you yield?"

Hatred swelled in Cobb's eyes. With a grunt, Cobb's fingers dug into the earth, then he rolled onto his back and threw dirt into James' eyes. James stumbled from his momentary blindness and Cobb was after him like a dog on a bone.

Julia saw a glint in the darkness where moonlight reflected off metal and she realized that Cobb had had pulled a knife. It took all of her willpower not to scream out for James to be careful, but she knew it would be distracting if she yelled out a warning. But she could not let James find out the hard way. Quietly, Julia alerted, "Knife. Left hand."

James nodded his head in acknowledgement and Julia let out a little of the deep breath she was holding in.

Cobb took a swing at James' head, the blade whistling through the night, but James deftly sidestepped the charge.

It occurred to Julia to run back to the house and get help, but she felt like a moth drawn to a flame. Two men were fighting over her – her! – and Julia could not bear to look away. However, Julia found it ironic that one man was fighting to bed her and the other, who already had that honor, was fighting to prevent said bedding.

Then it dawned on Julia that there were rocks about the size of her head bordering the cemetery. If she was able to get behind Cobb without him realizing it, Julia hoped to crack him upside the head with a stone, hopefully rendering him unconscious rather than angering him to the point of her murder. _No point thinking about anything other than ending the fight as soon as possible. _

Julia grabbed fistfuls of skirt and ran for the graveyard. Swallowing hard, she pried a stone loose and hid the stone in the borrowed jacket she still wore. Scrambling to her feel, Julia hurried back to the fight and stayed out of Cobb's line of sight as much as possible. However, the two men were locked together in a slow-moving dance, a fist occasionally escaping from the bear hug to land a punch.

Gliding as quietly as she could and maneuvering herself behind Cobb, Julia took a deep breath. _Please do not let me hit James by accident._ Raising the rock above her head, Julia closed her eyes and brought it down onto Cobb's head with as much force as possible.


	28. Chapter 28

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

* * *

"James, you are hurt."

Both Julia and James stood, panting heavily, over the prostate form of Cobb. The silence following the clashing of steel against steel was deafening. After the passage of several long moments, James broke his gaze away from his former First Mate and blinked at Julia, as if coming out of a fog. With a shake of his head that caused him to wince, James smiled wryly and finally acknowledged Julia's words by brushing the back of his hand across his bottom lip. When James did indeed come away with blood, he replied, "'Tis nothing."

Julia shook her head in a cross between frustration and concern. "No. I mean, yes, your lip is split. But your arm. He cut you and it bleeds freely still. It needs to be tended to." Taking a few hesitant steps towards James, Julia wanted to touch the area around the wound to see how bad it was but instead settled on pointing to the injury.

James looked down and acknowledged the gash with a nod of his head. Damn if it did not hurt now that he took a look at it. "No matter."

The careless manner in which James replied stilled Julia's footsteps. Her hands closed into fists lest she grab the man before her and shake some sense into him. Much longer and the loss of blood would cause James to feel woozy and possibly pass out. "What? Of course it is! Let me put a dressing on it." Julia lifted the hem of her shirt and grabbed the edge of her petticoat, about to tear the garment before James stayed her hands.

James kneeled before Julia, nearly breathless with how close he was to her person… how near her face was to his…. how near he was to… "No! Please do not ruin your clothing on account of me. My shirt is already damaged; are you not able to use the fabric from the sleeve as a bandage?" Stunned by the proximity of his person to Julia's, James removed his hands from Julia's and rocked back on his heels.

Julia looked down at James, squatting before her, and was shocked by her desire to have him run his hands up her legs. Unsure of what to do, Julia swallowed hard and wet her lips as she formulated a plan. "Take your shirt off. Let me look at the injury and then we shall see if the shirt needs to be sacrificed. If not, it still might be salvaged." Julia felt the blood drain from her face at the prospect of James disrobing and having to remain unaffected. She closed her eyes and quietly sighed.

James raised a brow and smirked. "I think that the shirt is beyond hope. But let me check on Cobb first. I must admit that I am quite impressed with how you smash a rock. Remind me not to end up on your bad side. Oh, wait. I already am." James then rose to his feet, bracing his hands on his knees as he did so.

"James, that is not fair…" Julia complained to his turned back.

_Fair, let me tell you about fair. I was once… Bugger, what does it matter? Nothing is fair, is it?_ But James was silent as he crouched next to the prone figure of Cobb. He placed his hand on the man's chest and was able to feel a steady heartbeat.

Julia crept closer, peering at Cobb over the shoulder of James. "Is he… dead?" Julia squeezed her eyes shut in disappointment that her voice came out in a whisper. She knew better than to sigh in frustration for James was irritated enough with her as it was.

James shook his had in the negative, feeling the heat of Julia's presence a few mere inches behind him. He wanted to be angry with Julia for sending him back to the party – for getting herself into trouble – but all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her until they were both dizzy. Short of that, he would have to deal with the situation at hand. "Nay, he is only out cold. Cobb shall have a nasty headache when he comes to, but you have managed to knock him unconscious. Although I cannot say for how long, so I should let you do your doctoring and use the remainder of the shirt to tie him up. What say you?"

Not liking how the moments after her rescue were going, Julia decided to be pragmatic for the time being and don a more business-like persona. "Stand. Let me have a look."

James rose to his feet. Silently, he unbuttoned the garment and with a careless shrug, shed his shirt and watched as Julia closed the distance between them. He then had to look away for fear that he would remove more than just his shirt. Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Julia's touch was feather light as she explored the wound, her breath warm against his bare skin.

_Do not look at his chest. Do not look at his chest. Do not look at his chest._

"James, the wound is much deeper than I thought. It shall require stitches in order not to scar." Julia kept her eyes low and was unaware that James pressed his lips so tightly together that a white line formed. She did notice how his arm muscles flexed and contracted in response to the news.

His words were harsh, but his tone was soft. "Then scar it shall, for after you bandage my arm I shall carry Cobb back to the house and then be on my way." James handed Julia the remains of his shirt without comment.

Julia felt her entire world collapsing on top of her and she was unsure of how to stop the domino effect of her earlier words. She accepted the shirt, then looked up to see James staring back at her. The storm raging in his emerald eyes nearly brought Julia to her knees.

Her words burst forth like water through a broken dam. "James, I am sorry. I meant not to hurt you. I was not angry before. I am not angry now. I was… overwhelmed. I just needed a moment or two –."

"Which almost got you raped – or worse," James interrupted. The look in his eyes was ferocious. But his words were like silk against her skin. There was no accusation, only sadness, in his tone. His brow furrowed and he wet his lips, a barrage of unasked questions held on the tip of his tongue.

Julia had the grace to look contrite. But James was impressed that she did not look away as she replied, "I was wrong. Please, let me put a dressing on this and then… may we talk?"

James broke eye contact first and looked up at the canopy of trees stretched above their heads. When he was little, the sound of the wind swaying tree branches made James think that angels were trying to whisper their secrets to him. While knowing that it was nothing of the sort, James took strength in the fact that no matter what, he would end up on his feet. Someone, something, some how always made sure of that. "Julia, I think I have done enough talking."

Julia would not be swayed once her mind was set. "Then you listen. Let me talk. I have a few things to say myself."

James lowered his gaze and with a slight bob of his head, acquiesced to Julia's request.

Julia wanted to scream in frustration, for this was nothing like she planned their reunion to be. Oh yes, a half-dressed James before her was a good start, but this ocean of bitterness stretching out between them was enough to make her beg James' forgiveness. _But it was he was the one who felt the need to confess his past sins. Did he really expect to do that without consequence?_ Julia ripped the fabric of the shirt into several strips, the sounds of the tears reverberating in the night air.

"You are an insufferable man if you think that I would accept your confessions without protest. As I said, I was not angry earlier, but I was – and am – certainly confused." To emphasize her words, Julia wrapped the bandage tightly, ignoring the involuntary flinching of her patient. James let a slight hiss escape past his lips as Julia tied the bandage tight to keep it from slipping.

When James did not reply to her comment, Julia continued, "James, you know others would never have told women of their past. Or, they would wait until the marriage ceremony was completed before reveling something so monumental. Now, I ask, why did you tell me?"

With a shirt, the evening breeze was comfortable, but James felt his skin cooling in the night air. He shuddered, much to his dismay. Without comment, Julia handed over the coat she had borrowed earlier, then followed James to the bench. Watching her companion shrug on the coat, Julia had to remind herself to stick to her convictions and not melt into a puddle.

Once seated, James leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped before him. "I told you so that there would be no secrets between us. I told you so that you would know whom you were inviting into your life."

Julia assumed the same posture as James. "Did you intend to propose tonight?"

His shoulders rose and fell as a sigh escaped past his lips and he shook his head in disbelief. After all the months of writing her, why did Julia's candor surprise him? "And you said earlier that I did not mince words…" He sighed again. "If not tonight, then soon."

Julia leaned back against the back on the bench and pinched the bridge of her nose, not caring if it was improper or unladylike. A headache was started to form behind her eyes, but Julia realized that there was no turning back from the coarse the conversation was taking. "And if I did not accept?"

James launched himself off the bench and began to pace. "I was not willing to entertain that option."

Julia was silent, absorbing his last statement. Was she really entertaining the notion of spending the rest of her life with this man? But there was so much that he wanted – so much that he expected – from a wife. And was she going to be able to live up to his expectations?

Pausing mid-stride, James held out his right hand and commanded. "Give me the shirt remains. I shall bind Cobb's hands and feet."

Handing the torn fabric without comment, Julia had to look away from James and his bare torso. Closing her eyes, she was immediately back to the last night they spent together, reliving the passion they shared. _My God, I am dying from want out here. My parents were right; I was born with an overabundance of original sin._

"You are safe from Cobb."

Her eyes popped open and she looked over to see the man trussed up, completely incapacitated. Julia felt a smile tug at her lips. "Thank you."

Nodding his head in acknowledgement, James resumed his pacing. Watching him walk back and forth before her made Julia nervous, so she hugged her arms to herself, shrinking inward as much as possible. "But what about children? Surely you must want children." Julia was disappointed that her tone came out with a whisper of desperation. She tilted her head back and watched the stars wink in and out of sight as the breeze swayed the branches above her.

James stopped in front of Julia and squatted before her, forcing Julia to look him in the eyes. His hand cupped her chin, his thumb tracing circles along her jawline. "If we do not have children ourselves, there are plenty in the poorhouses of England who are in need of a good home." His emerald eyes reflected unlimited empathy.

Julia felt her owns eyes widen in disbelief. My God, that is what I used to tell my husband all the time.

Trying to recover, Julia pressed on. Unconsciously, she leaned forward, the distance between them just mere inches. "You said that you were exploring alternate employment…"

James smiled, but the humor did not reach his eyes. Julia looked so young and earnest, like someone whose hopes had been raised and dashed too many times, but still held out one last bit of optimism. He pivoted and slid back onto the seat next to her, his hand slipping from her chin to her knee. "Aye, that I did. And that I do – have some offers, that is."

The desperation in her voice caused his heart to break. "James, you would really give up the sea for me?"

His hand on her knee squeezed gently, taking some of the sting out of his words. "Nay, I give up the sea for no one, save myself."

"So if I did not accept the proposal–."

"Which has not been asked," James interrupted.

Julia raised a brow, but nodded her head. "But if the proposal was asked and I did not accept then you would still give up the ocean?"

"Yes."

The single word hung in the darkness, suspended amongst the branches above their heads. Julia wanted to believe him, had to believe him. Even if he would not give up the waters on his own, James was still willing to take to land for her. For her. Everything in her life had been dictated by the actions of others – even if people thought otherwise. But here was a man who was willing to change his life to better hers, rather than asking for her to give up all that she held near and dear. However, James had yet to say what it was he would be doing instead. _Does is really matter as long as I can be with him?_

Julia broke the silence first. "James, if the situation was reversed, I would have asked first and confessed second. That said, whatever offer you are willing to make, I am willing to accept."

His brow furrowing in perplexity, James cocked his head to the side and wet his lips. "Julia, I am going to blame my confusion on the loss of blood, but what on earth are you taking about?"

"You said earlier that I know you better than I knew my husband before I married him. Truth be known, I know you better in the few months we have been corresponding… the week aboard the ship even… than I knew my husband all of my marriage to him. I… I miss being a wife. I would like to be one again. Will you… will you have me?"


	29. Chapter 29

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you once again for reading and all your kind words!

* * *

James cocked his head to the side, his green eyes narrowing in the darkness. Julia sat beside him, her brows raised in apprehension… and curiosity. Her lips were parted, waiting for his answer, and it took everything in his power not to close the distance between them and kiss her breathless. His heart was racing, his blood singing through his veins. The bench seat underneath him suddenly seemed so far away; it felt like he was soaring past the moss draped branches and up towards the stars. "Did you… did you just ask me to marry you?" 

When he phrased the question as such, even Julia was taken aback. What audacity on her part! It took her a moment to contemplate what James asked, but after slowly nodding her head for a few moments, replied, "I suppose I did. Yes."

Julia was so matter-of-fact that James could not help but laugh, a low rippling sound that reminded Julia of the distant thunder of a summer storm… a welcome relief during the heat of the season, but always a possible danger. She shivered as he replied, "Good, for I was about to ask if I could have you like I did the last time I saw you. If that was the case, then the answer would be yes. However, do you know how long I had been preparing my speech to ask you to be my bride?" The indignation in his voice did not sound affected, but Julia was not so certain.

The disappointment in his voice quickly dissipated all her anxiety and a dimple appeared in her cheek as she saucily retorted, "A speech? Whatever did you need a speech for? It is nothing more than a simple question, is it not?"

James closed his eyes in defeat. There was no way he could argue with her question. When Julia posed the question in the manner she did, of course she made it sound asinine that any time was spent practicing the question's delivery. _And then she had to go and steal the question away from you_. "Apparently, I did not need the speech the speech at all. You are unlike anyone – male or female – I have ever met. Do you know that?"

An eyebrow arched above her blue eyes. "So, are you going to leave me in suspense or are you going to answer?"

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. James suddenly had the impulse to by as ornery as possible. Short of taking Julia over his knee – which was more than a little appealing – James wanted to teach Julia some much needed patience. "I think I shall opt for suspense. I must take Cobb back to the house so he can be properly taken care of. Once he is safely in the hands of the authorities, then I will answer your question."

James started to stand, but Julia placed her hand on his forearm, stilling his movement. With a smile, she gently slid the jacket sleeve down his arm and checked on the bandage. No new blood had seeped through the dressing, so Julia nodded her head, "And not a moment before?"

"Not even a second. Now, I think it would only be fair that, seeing how I am now half-dressed, we get you into a similar situation…"

Julia smiled ruefully and pulled the jacket back up his arm, sighing as she did so. She would never admit it, but Julia would like nothing better to lay James back on a bed and cater to any and all needs. Short of that, she wanted to get back to the party as soon as possible so that they could leave as soon as possible. And possibly go back to her home for a more… private conversation. But only if he answered correctly. "Easy there. But what happens if people ask why we were alone out here? I do have a reputation here in the community to uphold."

His laughter was like velvet running up and down her spine. "Then I suppose you should have thought about that before slipping into the darkness. With a man. Alone." James stood, then turned and extended his good arm towards Julia, offering to help her up from the bench.

Narrowing her eyes in vexation, Julia pursed her lips before sighing heavily and accepting the outstretched hand. As she rose, James took a step closer to Julia and brushed his lips across the back of her knuckles. At the sudden intake of her breath, James smiled wickedly up at her across the back of her hand. "James Norrington, you truly are insufferable, you know that?"

Squeezing her hand before letting it go to gather Cobb, James arched a brow and looked at Julia down the length of his nose. "I am going out of my way to be so, so I am glad to know I have succeeded in one attempt this evening." He turned away without further comment.

Watching the tops of his feet as he walked over to his former First Mate, James mulled over the events that had just recently transpired. He laid eyes on Julia for the first time in several months, more beautiful than he remembered. He then told her about his past mistakes and, much to his dismay at the time, was asked for some privacy by Julia so she could absorb his words. Then Cobb appeared in his absence. He and Cobb fought. Julia clobbered him over the head with a rock. He and Julia discussed marriage. Julia asked him to marry her. Now he was going to take Cobb back to the house so that the justice that was expected in the Caribbean could finally be carried out.

_If this is how my days will go from now on, I shall never grow tired of her. But I shall also find myself in any early grave, for I am already exhausted. However, I am looking forward to other exhausting pursuits._

James bent over and grabbed Cobb's arms, slinging them over his back. With a grunt, James stood, the unconscious form of Cobb draped across his shoulders. Faltering for a moment, James finally was able to shift Cobb into a more comfortable position to better balance the unconscious man with minimal difficulty.

With a jerk of his chin, James indicated that Julia should follow him back towards the house. "Come. I shall take you back to the party. We have been gone long enough that whispers of your absence will have long since circulated. Let us get back before your reputation is sullied further."

Julia looked horrified as she fell into step beside James. "What? What on earth are you talking about?" _People may be talking about me?_

Casting her a glance out of the corner of his eyes, James chuckled, low and rumbling. "You cannot truly believe that your absence has gone unnoticed. Not with three marriage proposals offered… no, wait… with yours that makes four–."

If James had not been loaded down by the dead weight of Cobb, Julia would have shoved him in the chest with all her might. "That is not funny! You planned on asking me! And now you will not even be a gentleman and grace me with an answer!"

"You asking me to marry you hardly makes you a lady, so I would be hard pressed to know how I should be expected to act like a gentleman around you. Although, come to think of it, the last time I was around you, I acted not like a gentle man nor you like a lady."

Julia balled her hands into fists and matched her steps to James' stride. For someone carrying such an awkward encumbrance, James was walking remarkably fast. "Fine. I am not a lady. That can certainly not be news to you at this point. But to others, it might be. So, if anyone asks, we slipped out so that you might request my hand in private. And that Cobb came along and you had to… defend my honor.

"But that is not quite how it happened."

_Okay, try reasoning with him._ "But if the end result is the same, what does it matter?" _That was not reasoning, that was whining. And could you have sounded any more pathetic?_

Again. the laugh, dancing through the darkness. "Because you asked me. And I want everyone to know that." James paused, shifted Cobb with a painful grunt, and, after a moment, cast Julia another wicked grin. Julia could not ignore the sweat appearing on his forehead or beading on his upper lip; James had to be in a lot of pain.

But Julia stopped in her tracks, watching the retreating back of her companion, indignation coursing through her veins. Even before she could ask the question of whether he would tell everyone or not, Julia already knew the answer. But she had to try… "What? You would not!"

James just scoffed. "Of course I would! After all, I would be the envy of every man in the room… unmarried or not. A beautiful woman turning the tables on me? I will tell anyone and everyone within earshot." James loved he way Julia's eyes darkened from crystalline to indigo, like a thunderstorm riding the evening sky.

"I should not be pleased with what you just said, but I do thank you for the compliment, if one could call it that. In fact, you had to pick the worst time in the known world of worst times for making me want to kiss you. However, I ask you to please keep my… social impropriety between us."

James stopped and turned to face his ward. "Julia, I promise you this – I shall do nothing to embarrass you in the eyes of the community. While I find this evening more amusing, exhausting and emotionally draining, all at the same time, I promise you that what has transpired tonight will go no further than between you and I. However, I shall never turn down a kiss…"

"You will have to wait, for there is the party. Answer correctly later and giving you a kiss might be a distinct possibility."

The house loomed out of the darkness, almost blinding with light spilling forth into the night. The duo was quiet as they trudged the last several feet to the back veranda. Other partygoers, having private moments of conversation or needing a breath of fresh air, were sprinkled across the lawn. When they saw the interesting bundle James carried, all discourse ended until James and Julia walked past.

Each footstep on the porch steps echoed through the night air, blocking out the sounds of the party inside. As Julia and James crossed the threshold into the house, conversations died and people stopped what they were doing to stare. James pretended that he did not notice the looks and whispers, but Julia clung to James's arm, furtively looking from face to face.

A slight chuckle skated past his lips as James pushed Cobb backwards off his shoulders, where the inert man fell to the floor with a dull thud. A quiet groan emitted from the prone man and a collective gasp rippled through the party.

A man pushed through the crowd, fighting to see what was the cause of the intrusion into the festivities he was hosting. Breaking free of the wall of people, the man looked about wildly. Seeing the unconscious man lying in a pile at James and Julia's feet, he turned bright red. "What the Bloody Hell is going on?!"

The silence was deafening as the crowd waited for an answer. Feeling their collective gaze pressing upon her like a heavy weight, Julia stepped forward. "Mister Winthrop–."

Ah, that was the name of the host! James cupped Julia's elbow and interrupted. "Missus Ramage and I were having a private conversation when this man, formerly of my employ, interrupted us and made threats against Missus Ramage's person. Between she and I, we were able to subdue Cobb. I want to press charges."

It took a moment for his word to sink in, but then Mister Winthrop nodded his head incessantly and snapped his fingers repeatedly, servants seeming to appear immediately. "Well, I do not think that will be a problem. Now, what can we do for you?"

James watched as Cobb's body was removed from the room. _It is almost as if he is dead rather than unconscious._ "I thank you. I mean not to be a nuisance, but I am quite tired. A chair. And a beverage. Please."

A chair was immediately vacated and once the captain was seated, a cup of wassail was presented. James took the beverage with a gentle bob of his head and a quiet, "Thank you."

Everyone watched as James swallowed the liquid down. Then, one of the musicians played a chord and soon, the festivities were back into full swing. The unconscious mystery man was quickly forgotten.

But Mister Winthrop refused to leave James' side, for unknown reasons that James found curious – and mildly amusing. However, Julia swallowed nervously before taking a step forward. "Mister Winthrop, I would like to introduce you to Captain James Norrington. Captain Norrington, please allow me to introduce you to Mister Phillip Winthrop."

Mister Winthrop stepped forward, hand extended. "Captain Norrington, I pleased to make your acquaintance. I must say that I greatly appreciate your help in protecting Julia this evening, although if he was a former employee of yours, I must question your judgment in employees. However, Julia is very dear to me, so if she finds you to be worthy of consideration, than so do I. In fact, you are more than welcome to rest in one of our guest rooms tonight. You look exhausted and it is the least we could do in appreciation for all that you did for dear Missus Ramage."

Before James could reply, Julia slid between the two men and interjected, "I do apologize, but that is unnecessary for James was wounded during the altercation and the injury will need to be stitched to minimize scarring. Captain Norrington shall be escorting me home so I may tend to his injuries. We shall be leaving immediately."


	30. Chapter 30

**Obligatory disclaimer**: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

* * *

"Sit."

James was about to protest, saying that he was not in need of sutures for his wound, but the adrenaline that coursed through his veins earlier had long since abandoned his system and pain was starting to throb in his upper arm. So James did as Julia directed, sinking into the kitchen chair without comment as Julia glided across the keeping room, setting lights aflame and quietly humming to herself. He would admit to no one, especially Julia, but he was almost looking forward to the upcoming ministration of his injury, for James could not remember the last time someone took care of him… rather than the other way around.

_But remember, you would not be in this situation if Julia had gotten herself in that predicament._

James sighed heavily and when Julia turned, concern furrowing her brow, he feigned a yawn and waved her off.

_Although, she would not have found herself in harm's way if you had just kept your damn mouth shut._

As a means to perpetuate his cover of exhaustion, but also as a means to clear his head of such thoughts, James gave a rapid shake of his head and rolled some of the tension out of his shoulders. James then looked around the keeping room, noticing details that had slipped by during his last visit. The cat's bed by the hearth was new, but there were signs that a dog also lived there. A half-gnawed bone. A tattered quilt lying on the floor. A large bowl filled with water.

_Probably asleep somewhere. Some guard dog._

James then blinked. _Come to think of it, where is the cat? Hmm… probably off together somewhere, making plans or dreaming the night away. _

Getting back to what was in front of him, James absorbed his surroundings. Just as much as his last visit, if not more so this time, James still loved the pleasantness of the room. Large and comforting, the room reminded James of the wide skirts of his maternal grandmother, wide and inviting… and how she used to swing around her own kitchen, baking him cookies. Smiling at the memory, James looked up and was pleasantly surprised to see bunches of dried herbs and flowers looking down on him. Practically a sea of flora, the ceiling beams housed every variety – and then some – of medicinal plants James could imagine. Despite reading her letters and knowing that their worlds were so different, the realization that Julia had to eke out an existence in a civilization carved out of wilderness came crashing down on James.

Julia interrupted James' visual tour. "So, tell me about these job offers you are entertaining. I must say that after a life of the sea, any time spent on land will be like adapting to a completely different culture. How exciting and terrifying, all at the same time!" The dimple in her cheek appeared, but the look in her eyes was all seriousness. Julia was not so much concerned about where James was going, for uprooting her life was of no worry to her, but by giving up everything he held near and dear, what was James jumping into?

James eyed Julia as she prepared the instruments to seal his wound. She had set a pot of water to boil and had picked out several sewing needles from a basket set beneath the giant spinning wheel. Then, she had opened a cabinet and removed a small wooden box, setting it near his elbow on the kitchen table. Her brows were drawn together in concentration once the lid was opened. Curious, James leaned forward to see what was so vexing. Several spools of black thread and white thread were meticulously lined up, like flowers in a garden. James knew that the thread was used only for people rather than fabric, but he was intrigued as to why it was kept out of Julia's sewing notions.

Shrugging, James retreated back into his seat and answered, "Not much different than setting sail for a whole new world. I applied – and was accepted – to teach at several universities, both here in the Colonies and back in Mother England. I have not completely decided that academic pursuits should be my next vocation, so I had also thought about exploring this new land and have put out queries about becoming a surveyor. After all, I have charted the waters, so land is the next logical step. But the more I hear about the plight of the Indians at the hands of the Europeans, the more I sympathize and wish not to take any of their land for the colonists' use. It seems to me, that we have taken enough as it is."

Julia silently agreed with James about the plight of her native neighbors, but was too overwhelmed to say much of anything. In fact, seeing James sitting before her, his features sharply highlighted by the flickering lights, was causing her to feel a little too overwhelmed to do anything. _Yes, he is handsome. And yes, the idea of leading him upstairs again is very appealing. But he is taking his own sweet time in letting you off the hook and until he answers properly, it needs to be business as usual. Or… as unusual, as the case may be._ "A professor at a university sounds very… interesting, as well as challenging."

James chuckled, the sound a caress against Julia's skin, as he shrugged off his jacket in preparation for the upcoming repair of his arm. "Teaching a passel of unruly boys – who claim to be men – sounds like suicide actually. But I think that at this juncture in my life, I have enough knowledge and wisdom gleaned from past mistakes and other circumstances that others might find of interest. We shall see."

Julia had to turn away, lest James see the effect he had on her sans shirt. Grateful that she could focus on sterilizing the needle, Julia bent over a candle and held the tip in the flame. After a few moments, Julia set it upon a clean towel to cool and crossed the room to the hearth where she poured a cup of tea. Set the hot beverage next to James, Julia also opened a bottle of whiskey. "Well, I commend you for deviating so far from where you feel most comfortable, but again, I want it to be for you and not for me. And before you can reply to that, I have everything ready to suture you up. I promise, I will work quickly. The tea will help, but it will not make the pain nonexistent."

James arched a brow and reached for the alcohol, only to be surprised when Julia intervened by swatting at his hand. "The alcohol is for the wound, not you!"

"But…" Every other injury in the past that needed any doctoring was preceded by a long pull of whiskey. What on earth was she doing?

Julia shook her head slowly, a smile curving her lips. "Nay James. I have seeped some tea for you to help with the pain, but the alcohol in your veins may cause you to bleed more. And while the tea is not the most palatable, I promise you that it is more effective in acting as a pain foil than an equal amount of whiskey. If I am wrong, than I… shall…"

"Just give me the damn tea," James growled. Any way that Julia would finish that sentence was going to disappoint in comparison to how his mind had already completed the thought. Swallowing the hot beverage, and grimacing the entire way it went down, James wished for a lifetime of these moments. Rubbing his hand along his jaw, James was grateful that his skin still felt clean-shaven. As soon as this was over, he intended on exploring crevice of Julia's mouth and did no want to rub her cheeks raw as he did so.

But until he saw how much effort Julia was putting into repairing his injury, James still had been unsure of whether he wanted to tether himself to one woman for the rest of his life. Yes, Julia was the one he most wanted for that honor, but a sudden epiphany of Julia spending the rest of her life caring for him, as well as warming his sheets, made James' blood sing. He even smiled up at Julia when she removed the makeshift bandage.

Which quickly dissipated as Julia disinfected the injury. Splashing the wound with the alcohol, Julia winced as James let out a quiet groan. She knew it had to burn, but also knew his body would soon feel the effects of the tea. When his breathing returned to normal, Julia whispered, "I highly suggest you take a deep breath and let it out when I tell you."

James did as was told and when Julia commended, "Breathe out," he did so as the needle and thread pierced his flesh.

James hissed as the needle drew out of his skin, but it was more out habit than actual discomfort. Julia was right – the tea did help with the pain. But that did not make it a process he wanted to relive any time soon. The tea did not deaden the feeling of the needle closing the gap in his skin, but it did make the feeling less sharp. However, it was not the first time he had been sutured and James was sure it would not be his last. He was grateful that the injury was not worse than a mere surface wound.

"Done."

James looked down at the stitches, inspecting Julia's handiwork. They were even and smooth, barely even visible. And while he certainly did not relish the idea of being sewn back together any time soon, James wanted no one else to do his doctoring. "I must say, no one has ever done a better – or faster – job of setting down stitches. I… I thank you."

Julia smiled down at him, her eyes twinkling. "My husband used to say that stitching was women's work because they already knew how to sew. He then because angry when people would circumvent him and see me to fix cuts and wounds that ran deep." The smile on her face dissipated. "When he found out, he would beat me and take the money. But I then began to work in trade and that helped. Until someone would thank me. Then the beatings would commence again." Forcing the smile back into place, Julia chirped, "Now, let me put a clean bandage over the cut and retreat to the sitting room."

James rose from the chair, "I shall never lay a finger on you, Jewel."

Julia paused mid-stride, her chin slowly sinking to her chest. Her shoulders rose and fell as a sigh slipped past her lips. Were there any words to express the pressure that suddenly appeared in her chest… that tightened her lungs? Figuring it would be best to keep a light tone, Julia forced her voice to be cheerful as she pulled rolls of bandages from a cabinet before setting them on the table. "So are you finally answering my question?"

James crossed the distance between them in a few steps, his arms wrapping around her waist, his chest against her back, his chin resting on her shoulder. The words whispered against Julia's ear caused a shiver to dance through her muscles. "Like there was any doubt."

Turning so that she could look up into James' eyes, Julia smiled, her right hand arcing up and smoothing the hair along his temples. "Then do not say you will never lay a finger on me, for I would very much like it if several fingers were laid upon me in the same manner you did during your last visit. However, I need to place a dressing before anything irritates the stitches. And then you need to get some rest."

"So we are engaged?" James' green eyes glowed with delight.

Julia was stunned at the level of excitement in James. Her previous two engagements were power struggles of financial jockeying between her fiancés and her parents. She seemed to factor into the situation very little, if at all. _Although Cutler did attempt to put forth some effort into wooing me. But that was before the engagement. Once we were betrothed, all he did was try to lift my skirts._ This show of enthusiasm left Julia at a loss for words, so she struggled to reply. "It would seem so. So now you may have some drink. As a reward for being a good patient. And in celebration, I suppose."

"Ah, but now I do not need it." The words came out as a husky growl and Julia knew he could see the effect of his proximity and enthusiasm had on her person. James wet his lips in anticipation and his hold on her waist tightened.

All wide-eyed innocence, Julia asked, "And just what it is that you do need?"

James' eyes twinkled in mirth. He was amazed by how much he had missed their banter. He was also surprised by how content he was just holding Julia in his arms._ You just fought a duel – an unplanned one at that – old man. Of course you are tired._ "While the correct answer would be you, I must say a good night's sleep is what I need. So that I can show you just how much I missed you these past several months come morning."

Pretending to consider his words, Julia tapped her finger against her jaw. _Thank the Lord. I am exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep the sleep of the dead. Maybe once I am lying in bed, I shall change my mind. But even if I do, I can do no persuading – nor allow him to persuade if he changes his – once we are upstairs. This man nearly died for you. Forcing him to rest and recuperate is the least you can do for him. Dawn's light… then you may show him more of your gratitude._

Then Julia nodded her head, as if finally deciding James' words were best – before a grin that she was trying to suppress snuck out. "I think I would like nothing more than to fall asleep in your arms. Unless you have a room at an inn…" Julia knew her unfinished statement was leading and was annoyed at the tone of her voice. _Why does this man want to marry you, you twit?_

"And I would like nothing more than to wake in yours. And yes, I have a room. I would not be so presumptuous as to think I would be allowed quarters here. No matter how hopeful I was. Thank you for letting me stay."

"Thank you for staying. Now, let us retreat upstairs. But first…" Stepping out of his embrace, Julia began to douse the lights. As she moved systematically across the room, James grabbed a lantern to navigate the stairs easier. Julia blew out the last lamp before returning to James' side, where she slid her arm back around his waist. "Let us have a good night's sleep so that we may have an even better morning."

Playfully tweaking Julia's nose, James teased. "It is a good thing that I will have you, as no man would want such a brazen woman as his wife."

Julia bumped her hip against James'. "And what does that say about you?"

"That I am either very lucky or a great fool. Or both." His gently chiding tone went quiet, softly caressing Julia's skin. "But more than that… I am grateful to finally find where I need to make my home. Anywhere you are."

_Fin_

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**A/N**: Thank you once again for taking time out of your day to read my story. Your reviews have meant the world to me. There will be more tales, but James and Julia's story ends here so that what happens to them – or just Norrington – may be decided by _**you**_. 


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